


Home Trained For You

by selim_nagisokrov



Category: Original Work
Genre: Kidnapping, M/M, Physical Abuse, Psychological Thriller, psychological abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-13
Updated: 2011-09-26
Packaged: 2017-11-13 09:21:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 46,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/501952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selim_nagisokrov/pseuds/selim_nagisokrov
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark was only sixteen when he was kidnapped. He was still a boy when he was forced into a life that would change him from the sweet teenager to the scared man subservient only to his husband.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Kidnapping

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is an original work of fiction. Any similarities to any real people, places, or events are purely coincidental.

No matter how long it’s been, I still remember the last day of my freedom. 

It was my sixteen birthday and I had decided to hang out with my friends doing things that I enjoyed. I wanted to play baseball and my friends agreed with some reluctance. I remember being in the outfield of the lot, bordering the old junkyard, when my friend Skyler knocked a ball out of the field. He of course cheered; I only wanted to cuss him out at losing our last ball as I made a mad dash inside the old junk yard to find the aged baseball.

I don’t, to this day, know why me. I remember bending down to grab my ball and then darkness. I may have regained conscious a few times, but each time was shrouded in darkness. Faintly, I remember my friends calling my name before they decided that I’d probably went home like a baby about losing the game. I think I had started screaming, trying to get them to find me but no one heard anything and I would fade out of conscious again.

The next time I regained full conscious I was no longer in that junkyard and my freedom was a thing of the past. My arms were secured to a radiator, my mouth gagged with a foam ball, my eyes blindfolded. I know I was conscious only by the pure grace of god that I could see light fading in the background. There was a ticking of a clock to my left, the sound of leaky pipes, and the voices of a television. In attempt to free myself, I rattled the chain handcuffs while my feet moved under my body to pull myself up. It didn’t work. Screaming past the gag, I began to pull and lash out trying to break the chain links. 

“We're finally together..."

Isn’t it strange that when you hope someone could save you the first voice you hear is usually a menacing one? My captor’s voice was a rough, masculine one laced with lust. I wasn’t stupid, I know what he wanted. It sent shivers down my back, causing me to tense and prepare for the worst. Even past the gag, I tried to fight calling him a fag, a fucking fag that should die. He needed to let me go or something would happen. I didn’t know what I could do, tied at someone’s mercy. 

Clammy hands touched my cheek, moving down to my chin. He lifted my chin, probably to look me over. “You're so much prettier up close, Aiden.”

I struggled against the chains, letting the warm metal eat into my wrist. I didn’t care, I wanted free why I screamed past the ball, “ _My name’s Mark!_ ” I doubt he heard me though.

“You're over dressed Aiden, let me help you with that.” 

With a loud grunt, I retaliated that it was Mark, but I can tell he’s no longer listening to me. Something cold brushed across my arms, hitching up the sleeves of my shirt. My ears are pulsing with blood as I hear the tear of fabric. He’s cutting off my clothes. The man in me says I’m not crying, but the wetness rolling down my cheeks says otherwise. I’m scared to death. I’ve heard of cases of kidnapping and rape, but it’s always little girls – no, children. I’ve never heard of a sixteen-year-old boy being kidnapped, raped. Maybe it was because they all ended up dead?

“ _Please…_ ” I’m groveling now, but the gag in my mouth garbles my words. “ _Let me go…_ ” 

Either he doesn’t understand me or doesn’t care; he continues a downward path with his knife, nicking me here and there. “So many pleasure points, my Aiden.” I don’t know what he’s talking about until the knife brushes back up and I buck wildly. It occurs to me that every time I move I knick myself. The only times I’ve moved, I noted, are spots that send nervousness up to my brain to withdraw quick – my nipples, my belly, my groin, my thighs, my feet. It scares me to death, each article of clothing cut away leaving me bear to the world for it to witness my ass rape. 

“ _I’m straight…_ ” I try again.

My girlfriend, she’d never want a guy who’s taken it up the ass. My parents would abandon me if I was gay. My friends would all ignore me. “You’re such a pretty boy, Aiden.”

I tried to ignore him. I’d heard those words before. I had my mother’s slim build only fueled by my need to play sports such as baseball rather than football. I had no real tone going on. No fat, no muscle, just tall, bony Mark. I had a girl’s face; my dad once told me when I was bullied. Pretty blue eyes, long lashes, dark hair that hung in my face because I keep putting off a haircut. My eyebrows weren’t bushy, I had no facial hair to say, and I could count the number of hairs on the base of my cock in two hands.

My teammates said I was just a late bloomer.

“So tiny.” He touched my penis and I lashed away from him, putting pressure on my back. I didn’t like to talk about my disadvantages, no with my soon-to-be rapist. “You’re just too cute, Aiden.”

Chewing on the gag in my mouth when the big hand wrapped around my cock, I found myself trying to lose consciousness again. Anything than feel the man pull the foreskin from my penis back before bringing it forward again. I was scared, I knew what he was going to do and just by coming, my body was agreeing to enjoy this. I was hardening, the blood was flowing fast, pooling in my penis. Trying to break the chain, I found myself screaming as I came hard and fast in the hand of another man.

“You taste so good.” 

I shivered. “ _Please let me go._ ” I knew what would happen next, and it scared me to death. I was surprised to hear a faraway door close followed by the sounds of the man moaning. He couldn’t take me. I breathed a sigh of relief, letting my head drop back. This had to be a horrible dream that I’d wake up to, feel disgusted, and never talk about again. 

A door opened again. The man removed my blindfold and I remember staring up at my captor for the first time. He was in his early thirties with faded dark blonde hair and brown eyes. His bronzed skin suggested many hours of manual labor along with his large muscular frame. He was a giant in comparison to my tall frame. He probably was well over six feet. I knew if there wasn’t a ball stuffed in my mouth, I would have started begging him not to grind my bones to make bread or something stupid like that.

“Were you crying?” He asked, bending down next to me. His big finger brushed under my eyes, the rough pad brushing the moist skin under my eyes. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I just couldn’t hold back any longer. I’ve been watching you for such a long time.”

The worst pick up line, in my opinion, to give to someone still chained to a radiator, in a strange apartment, with a gag in their mouth. I was still his captive with no clue what was going on except I was very naked and he could change his mind at any moment and fuck me into oblivion. Using my legs, I pushed back on his leg, trying to keep a distance between us while fixing him my best glare. I wanted him to know that I was not happy with the current situation. 

The minute my bare foot touched his leg, it was grabbed by my captor. He gave me a toothy grin. “You shouldn’t hit the person who loves you. It makes me very, very, very mad.” With each word, his grip of my foot tightened and I thought the bone would break as I fought to get out of his hold. He didn’t relent. “When I saw you, Aiden, I just knew I had to have you.”

I cried again that my name was Mark, but I knew that the man wasn’t listening to me. He kissed my foot lovingly before returning my blindfold. I never welcomed darkness so much than I did that moment. I didn’t want him to see me cry. 

My name’s Mark. This little voice piped up in the back of my head. It kept repeating that mantra every time he called me that name. I’ve never hated a name more than I did the moment he started calling me it. I am Mark, named after my grandfather. I am a person, not an animal to be named. I sobbed as his rough finger continued to touch my wet cheeks. “I don’t mean to scare you,” his voice shook. He seemed so scared. “I love you so much.” 

“ _Let me go! Let me go!_ ” With new resolve, I fought against my bindings. The thick warmth sliding down my arm didn’t deter me from my attempts. I didn’t want to be there anymore, not under his gaze or exposed. The gag in my mouth caught my words, attempting to leave his oblivious of my yells. He ignored them just as easily, his hand leaving my face. I knew that he was gone and I wouldn’t hear from him again for another two days.

Two days I was forced to sit there, living in my own filth with only my grumbling belly to keep me company and the vile scent of feces to make me want to vomit. At one point I wanted to know where my captor was, if anything, for food. It occurred to me that maybe I wasn’t going to be shot to death, but molested and starved. The cops would find me dressed in my own waste, bony thin. I don’t remember when I stopped salivating, but it left my mouth feeling irritated, especially along the edges where it’d been forced open. 

I cried in joy when I heard a door open and someone call out Aiden—

Although my name is Mark—

My head probably slammed to the side, responding not to the name but to a smell. I was so familiar to the smell of a burger but wasn’t if it was just my starved brain playing mind games on me. “Would you like some water Aiden?”

It’s Mark.

I nod. 

The ball is slowly removed from my mouth, and I slowly close my jaw relieved that the overworked muscle could finally relax. A cup is placed under my chin, and I inhale deeply the crisp fragrance of water. I have never been happier in my life. Trying to push myself away from the wall and towards the water, I ended up face first in the cool liquid. I must have made a spectacle of myself doing this.

With the blindfold wet, I almost howl in rage when my captor pushes my head back. I don’t want him touching me. “You need a bath.”

“…f’od…” I try to request the burger I’m now positive I smell. I feel something slide under my nose, taunting my receptors. 

“You have to behave to get this.”

Clamping my jaw out, I’m surprise when the man hits me with an open palm. Jerking back, I look away from him. The blindfold falls from my ear, weighted down by water. I can see the burger in question, a small McDonald’s one just wanting to be ate by me, but it’s too far away, behind my captor. “Please…” My voice is so hoarse from lack of use. 

“You need a bath first.” The man’s reaching for the handcuff’s holding my arms back. I watch him unlatch them, my body falling forward. I have no strength to push myself up from a puddle of urine. The man pities me, helping me up from the ground. He carried me bridal style to an attached bathroom, and I quietly take in my surroundings.

I’ve been in the man’s bedroom since my first day in, chained to the radiator. The window is covered by a black sheet, but from my position I can’t see beyond it. The bed doesn’t look slept in and I know for a fact that I’d heard no one else since the first day, making me wonder if that was his room or a guest room (if I behave, do I get to sleep in that comfy looking bed?) . The bathroom is just as small with a tub that will barely hold my lengthy body, a toilet, and an attached wall sink. It’s really an old apartment complex. My mind organizes all the possible places we could be staying at, trying to remember any small information that could help if I do escape. I come up with nothing, to my horror.

“I already drew you a bath, Aiden. Do you like lavender bubble bath? It’ll help calm you down. You put up such a racket the other day.” I shiver as I’m lowered into lukewarm water. With his help, I’m propped up against the wall; my captor busied himself washing my body off.

His big hand and tiny rag worked its way slowly across my chest, down my stomach, along my penis, and finally between my buttocks. I wanted to fight him back, feeling uncomfortable with the ministration but I couldn’t fight the strength. Sure will power alarm brought my week arms forward to push against his chest when he tried to put a finger in my butt. I actually whimpered when he pulled me against his chest, his hand working between my globes. “I have to clean your special area.” He whispered soothingly in my ear as a cloth covered finger pressed passed my hole. 

“I, I, no…!” I was going to lose my ass virginity, I just knew it.

“Relax, Aiden.” The man touched my ass cheeks lovingly.

“M, Mark…”

“What was that?”

There was a sharp change in his speech, and it sent shivers down my spine. His loving facade disappeared. His pitch lowered, becoming one almost a demon. I knew at that moment he was not a man to piss off. “P, please,” I was kicking myself in the ass for begging but I was actually scared, “please don’t…”

“Aiden…”

“…Ma—”

Two large hands wrapped around my throat, pushing me back against the tub. The strength that I didn’t have before came back fast as I fought to get him off of me. Kicking and clawing at his arms, I made raspy noises that were supposed to be screaming. It wasn’t, I realized, that I’d told him I didn’t want to fuck that had pissed him off, it was my reluctance to use that name. “Aiden, you’re name is Aiden.” I was on the edge of passing out when he finally let go of me and I fell back in the water.

“M, my name is Aiden.”

The voice in the back of my head didn’t pipe up this time. Every part of me was scared of what had just happened. 

Pulling me knees under my chin, I fought outright crying. I wanted to go home. I wanted to just wake up in the comfort of my bed with my mom making me breakfast as my dad chastised my heavy sleeping habits. Anything was better than this nightmare I was suddenly thrown into. 

The man patted my cheek. “That’s right. Now stand up, I need to drain the water.” With his help, I stood on rocky legs, forced to lean again his large frame so I wouldn’t fall again. Suddenly the shower head was turned on, shocking my body awake. “Look at your hair, it’s so messy. We’re going to have to shampoo it.” I let him, lost in the water droplets fallen on my lips. The scent of lavender grew heavy as he worked the gloppy mess in my hair. The shower quickly washed it away before I was helped out of the shower. 

I was brought back to the room, told to sit on the bed. Shivering, I stared down at the mess I’d left the last few days. My attention grew lost, ignoring as my hair was dried, my skin brushed, my penis loved. He didn’t return to my rectum, so I didn’t care. I watched him pay attention to the head of my penis, almost enthralled by the skin around the head. “You’re cold.”

“…F, food…” I reminded him. The smell of the hamburger still lured in the air. My stomach growled in agreement.

The man stepped back. “You want that burger?”

I nodded.

“Suck me off first.” Loosening his belt, the man unzipped his pants to pull his hard erection out. My gaze fell on its red head wondering at what point he had been turned on and why I hadn’t noticed it before. He was huge, proportional to a man his size. Instinctively my legs closed, trying to hide my own inadequacies. “If you suck me off real good, I’ll give you the whole burger.”

I wouldn’t. “You said if I behaved!”

“And you didn’t, Aiden.”

_It’s Mark!_

“I’m being nice offering you this second chance.” The man’s huge erection bobbed when his hips moved. “I should let you starve to think about your behavior to me.”

“I won’t!” Turning my body, I crossed my arms. 

The man walked over to where he’d left the burger. The sound of a wrapper being removed caused my head to turn back and watch as he took a huge bite of the sandwich. My stomach growled in protest. Like prey walking into a trap, I crawled across the bed to watch him take another big bite then another. With only half left he showed me the food. “You have a choice,” he offered again, “You can starve, or you can blow me off. The choice is yours Aiden.”

It smelt so good. I groaned, watching him bring the food to his mouth. As he was preparing to bite down, I whispered, “I’ll do it.”

Sliding to the floor on my knees, I stared at his huge penis. Nervously wrapping my hands around the base, I stared up at him with wide eyes. “I, I’ve never done this.”

“I’m sure you’ll be great.”

With a shiver, I brought the head of his cock into my mouth. My first thought: it was musky, definitely male. My second thought: how the hell was I supposed to fit the entire thing in my mouth? I’d seen porn, sure, but those women usually had big mouths anyway. The head alone felt too big for my mouth to take. At best, I could fit half of the huge penis in my mouth. Feeling my eye twitch, I refused my mouth and licked his head before trying again.

I only got a tiny bit of his penis in my mouth the second time before my gag reflex kicked in. Coughing, I pulled back, feeling tears roll down my eyes. Looking up at my captor, I watched him rip the half into another half. “I, I can’t. You’re too big.”I watched him eat one of the halves. Eyes watering, I took the man’s penis in my mouth again. This time his free hand grabbed my bangs, stopping me from pulling away. Forced forward, I swallowed more of his cock, feeling it touch the back of my throat. Gagging again, I tried to pull away.

“Don’t you dare bite me.”

The man moved my head, forward and back attempting to lodge his penis further and further down my throat. Under my hands, his balls tightened and I moved my tongue over the head just as it pulled out of my mouth. The first glob of cum hit my lips as the man worked his hand around the erection, jerking himself off. The second glob shit my cheeks. “Open your mouth.” I did just as the next one sprayed onto my tongue. The man’s hand moved from my bangs to the back of my head as he finished in my mouth.

When I finally could pull away, I let my jaw slide open, the man’s semen rolling from my mouth. It was so disgusting. I brought my hands to my face, crying into the palm. I felt like such a whore as the last remaining piece of hamburger was dropped into the pool of semen on the floor. Too hungry to care, I grabbed the meat and stuffed it in my mouth before my captor could change his mind. It wasn’t much, actually it was nothing at all but it made my stomach monetarily happy. 

“Climb on the bed.”

Hands still against my face, I looked through my fingers up at my captor. 

“Aiden!”

That voice again. Rising to my rocky knees, I climbed on the bed. I choose to ignore the leer he gave my ass when it passed his vision.

“Lay down.” 

I did as he told, keeping my legs tightly together. This was it; I heard the back of my brain cry. He was finally ready to go through with “it”. Instead, he grabbed my arms to chain me back up. The man then cleaned the cooling cum off of me before he replaced the gag in my mouth. “I love your eyes.” The man kissed both lids before pulling back. “You’ll get better.”

I didn’t want to get better, I just wanted to get freed and go home. For the first time since my capture, I begin to cry openly.


	2. The Trunk

I've had so many opportunities to scream, yet I keep tight lip and obedient. It's strange. If I could imagine myself in this situation, I would have caused more of a ruckus to get saved but this isn't even by a stretch my imagination. This is all real, and I follow his rules. I get rewarded for doing that much. Nothing big, like my freedom, but it's something that makes the days go by beyond just sitting there with my own thoughts imagining ways to escape that could never happen on this psycho's watch.

He lets me listen to the radio.

I know, I know. It's not much, but when a person's been alone with just their thoughts after a week, anything is a welcome escape. I don't get to choose the station but I don't care. When my kidnapper leaves to do whatever it is psychotic assholes do all day (to think, they have nine-to-five jobs!) I listen to the drone of some disk jockey on a bubblegum pop song. This has given me access to several things: entertainment, the date, and my mother's voice.

Yes, my mother's voice. Apparently cops will file a report, but the whole community doesn't join the search for a missing person unless it's a small child or a teenage beauty queen. I'm, sadly, neither. When I get out of here, I want to bitch slap all those people who threaten to run away from home, just to see how their parents for feel about it. I think my heart breaks every time I hear my mother's sobbing voice begging for me to come home.

I tried shouting again after that, but no one responded. I know this is an apartment complex, but it feels like one of those that everyone minds their own damn business and if there's crying or screaming the music in the apartment next door only increases volume more. This guy really has his bases covered…

_This song goes out to all you girls-_

I turn my head towards the radio when it shuts off. He's home. "Did you miss me, Aiden?"

 _Mark._  I turn back towards the ceiling, flexing my legs with a roll of my eyes behind the blindfold. I had to pee. I knew he'd get the idea. He usually did.

"I missed you too," His hand brushes across my bare nipple causing me to shudder. "I kept imagining you here, waiting for me. It made me so hot and ready." On a downward slide, his hand wraps around my cock. I make a deep noise similar to a mew.

It's been a week. I've come at least once a day since being here, but he's never penetrated me. I wonder how long he'll last before he just forces himself on me because if he's waiting for the okay from me, it's not going to happen any time soon. I try tugging away from his hand, towards the bathroom to let him know I desperately need to go. He seems to get the hint as he removes my handcuffs and I throw myself from the bed towards the toilet. I slam into the door frame, causing him to laugh and help me towards the toilet. As I'm relieving myself in what I hope is the toilet, he removes the blindfold from my face.

"Let me see your eyes." Without question, I turn to face him. I try not to look amuse, but his happy-go-lucky smile almost causes me to. "You're so beautiful, do you know that Aiden?" He works on removing the gag from my mouth. Working my jaw, I reach for toilet paper to clean myself up. Anything to avoid letting him see that I'm starting to blush. I hate when he says that.

It almost makes this feel right.

"I brought some ingredients for dinner. You like celery soup don't you?" He starts out of the bathroom towards the living room. I lean against the door frame, too afraid to actually follow him.

My arm still hurts from the last time I tried to escape out the door ten feet away. "I, I don't like celery."

"Nonsense, it's your favorite." The man ignores me cheerfully.

I shudder just smelling the soup slide from the can with a slimy plop. I don't have likes or dislikes, I remember. He rules  _everything_  expect my biological necessities. I'm tempted to let him get me a trunk of strawberries just so I could have an allergic reaction. Would he get it for me if I ask? Does he "love" me enough for that? "I…I…" Just say it, Mark. I. Want. Strawberries. "I'm thirsty."

My captor looks over at me. "Shit, I forgot all about that. And you've been such a good boy too!" He grabs a cup he's designated "mine" from the drying rack, filling it with water. He comes over towards me, still smiling. "Can I have a kiss?" He leans forward, readily.

Like a trained dog, I peck his lips, grab the cup, and flee back in the room into a little corner that's rightfully mine. It has a pillow against the wall so I can relax when my captor is there. He doesn't have a television, just that little radio. When he's home though, he wants to spend all his time with me. Holding me, kissing me, and loving me – bah. It's so disgusting. I sip from my water, enjoying the cold pillow against my bedsores.

After awhile, he comes in with the soup and a spoon. Sitting across from me, he stirs the heated soup one last time before blowing into a spoon filled with green liquid. "Open wide." He holds it towards me. I turn away, scrunching my face. That shit reeks. Who could stand eating it? Celery is bad enough, but in soup form? Sick! "Aiden." That's his warning voice, but I don't move towards him. I'd rather suffer the beating then let that foul food touch my tongue. The spoon slammed back into the bowl, his large hand reaching towards my mouth. His dirty fingers pried my lips open, digging into my gums to unclench my teeth.

Answering to my fight, the man climbed on my stiff body, trying to reach his hand in my mouth while the other grabbed the spoon again. A metallic taste filled my mouth, pooling with the spit at the back of the throat tempting to drown me. He must have given up on my throat because the next thing I knew, he'd reached for my nose, pinching the nostrils closed. Instinct told me to fight back, but my body was losing fast. Starvation had left me weakened the last few days and being oxygen deprived didn't help my situation.

My mouth opened for a breath of air and the spoon shoved in, deep into the back of my throat. Grabbing his hand, I tried to pull him back as my throat locked up. When he released his hold on me, I found no strength to push him away, just to turn my head and vomited blood, stomach acid, and celery. While dry heaving, my kidnapper – no my  _torturer_  - grabbed my face again, pouring more celery into my mouth instead of giving me time to recover. This time, I couldn't fight him as he held my head back, trying to force the thick liquid down my throat. I shuddered, my stomach twisted. At that moment, I was sure I was greener than a lizard.

Making another gagging noise, my captor released his hold again waiting for me to throw up again. It never came. Instead I leaned nose deep in my own mess, smelling the putrid scent that only made me sicker. The man finally stands up, abandoning the soup in favor of my handcuffs. In no time, I chained to the radiator again, feeling nauseous. I try to hold the urge to throw up as the gag is placed in my mouth and the man leaves.

I'm crying again. I feel so weak and hopeless, ready at any moment to just keel over and die. Why me? I'd never seen this guy in my life. Of all the boys in town, why did he have to focus his sick attention on me? I want to go home.

In my pitiful state, I don't know how long he's been gone. I just know he returned in as much of a huff as he left, but this time with a long black storage trunk often used in camping. The man maneuvers it in the room, placing it near me.

I'm unchained from the radiator, but my hands are put together again, firmly latched. I start to scream past the gag, kicking and fighting as he begins to put me in that trunk. He bought me my casket, I think. I'm going to be buried in someone's back yard, not to be found for seventy years. Then Hollywood will do some stupid sitcom that details my death with a false name, something CSI-like.

My fighting isn't enough as the lid begins to close. With the last of my strength, I raise my legs to the lid, kicking in synch with my screams. I'll do anything to make sure that the lid doesn't latch, sealing my fate. I can feel him under my bare feet, on the other side of the lid. He's sitting on the trunk, keeping it closed. It then latches and I'm left in the dark, enclosed space. My nose is beginning to get stuffy, causing me to fight more. I'm going to suffocate! Oh god, oh god!

The trunk begins to slide across the floor, probably under the bed. I'm still trying to get out when the man turns on his radio, putting in a CD. The soft classical melodies likely aimed to calm me down, only make me scream louder hoping that my voice rises above it. After awhile, my volume begins to lower. My throat is so dry; I begin to cough, fighting not to suffocate under his bed. No longer raised above the classical music, I can only apologize in a whisper, hoping that he will hear me. If I can't leave this apartment, then I want to be out of the trunk. I want to lay back on the comfortable bed and feel the light air conditioner against my skin. I want to inhale moist air.

I just don't want to die in that trunk.

There are twelve songs on that classical CD. I think two are Bach's but I've never been one for that kind of music. The player has the CD on repeat and it has done so more times than I was willing to count. I don't know if I slept or if I just laid there weakly coughing. Maybe it was a mixture of both? Sometimes I would close my eyes and hear the soft sounds of the man moving throughout the apartment.

He talks on the phone a lot. I still don't know his name or what he does for a living. I thought he worked at an auto repair shop or something, because his hands are constantly dirty when he came to see me, but the way he discusses papers and clients I can't help but imagine him a business man. But…I've never seen him wear a suit? That reminds me; can a crazy man even hold a real job? He has to do something during those hours he leaves the house.

In fact, since being put in the trunk, he hasn't acknowledged my existence. At least when I was on the bed, he'd hold me at night and just talk in circles about how lucky he is to have me. Now, he doesn't even let me know that he still cares. If I died under this bed would he just grab another boy off the street? The thought that I'm disposable sends an ache to my heart.

He said he  _loved_  me though. If he really loves me, then he wouldn't just throw me out because of some celery.

I'm pulled from my sleep at one point to the trunk moving. The lid opens and I squint, trying to hide from the light of the room. The ball gag is removed from my mouth and a straw is pressed between my lips. Cold water drains down my throat, and I happily lap at it. Never once do I attempt opening my eyes, trying to give myself time to adjust. I just relish in the liquid cooling my dry throat. Next a wash cloth brushes against my loins, cleaning the urine and feces from my body.

When the gag is returned to my mouth, I start to cry. My eyes crack open to stare up at the man. He doesn't meet my own gaze. He seems so heartbroken as the lid closes, sealing me to my punishment again.

" _I'm sorry_!" I sob past the gag. " _Let me out! I'll eat the soup! I'm sorry!_ "

The lid doesn't open. I hear water running past the CD, still playing the same twelve songs. He ignored me. That thought alone hurt. He said he loved me! That he's been waiting for me! If he really loved me then why is he ignoring me? Is he doing all this because I don't like celery soup?

Still weak, I try to move. I've tried this before, when I first was put in the trunk. The area is too narrow, even for my thin frame. I can just barely push myself on my side, my knees bent. It's enough to relieve my stiff back as I focus all my weight on my arm instead. The side of the trunk feels cool against my face and I lean my face against the dark plastic. Faintly I can smell grease from the kitchen. My belly growls, reminding me I haven't ate in some time.

How long has it been? It feels like months. I've lost track of so much time since being put in the trunk. I'm quick to dismiss months however. Since the night of the celery, I haven't eaten once and I'm still very much alive albeit very weak. My estimates are a few days considering the number of times I've relieved myself. I wonder if my mother gave up hope of ever finding me. Maybe she finally relented with what all the disc jockeys and "concerned callers" have told her: that I've just run away?

I shake my head. I doubt it. Mom wasn't one to give up so easily. So why isn't this man nervous that he'll be found out? He must be so sure of himself that he got away with kidnapping or he's so disillusioned that he isn't even aware that I was forced here.

The trunk moves again. I jump. I know it's been awhile since the last time he visited me, maybe a day or so. Will he ignore me again?

The top opens, and the man stares down at me. I can't find the strength to turn my head and face him. Since crawling into this position the last time he watered me, I haven't found the strength to return to my original position. It's like my bones have locked up.

"Oh, Aiden. Look at what you've done to yourself."

I…did this to myself? I try to think this over. Did I?

"Let's get out of that box. Would you like something to eat?"

I want to nod my head, but I can't find any strength to do so. He lays me on the bed, removing the handcuffs. I watch the piece of metal hit the ground, but my hands remain close together. The man rubs my wrist, kissing my cheek lovingly while whispering sweet nothings in my ear. With his help, I'm able to maneuver myself in a sitting position, but I don't have the strength to hold my head up. He seems satisfied though, sitting back and smiling at me. The gag is removed.

"I brought your favorite." He reaches for a bowl on the side table. From it, I see a familiar substance that put me in this situation. Celery soup in all its puke colored glory. Is he testing me? Would he put me back in the trunk if I refused to eat again? My stomach growls noisily, even though the smell makes me sick. Now, I realize, is not the time to be picky as he holds to spoon near my mouth. Without another thought, I latch onto the spoon, sucking down the warm broth. My stomach twist, but I ignore it. Spoonful after spoonful, I eat until I want to throw up, but I'm so happy to finally have my fill.

The man smiles brightly. "See? Now was that so difficult?" He puts the bowl to the side, his long arm wrapping around my middle. It doesn't take much effort to get me to fall into his side. He's actually really warm causing me to attempt situating myself further into his larger frame. "I missed you." He kisses my forehead. I stare up at him, not sure what to do. "Did you miss me?"

I can only nod in response, tucking my head into his shoulder. With some effort, I throw my arm across his middle, trying to pull in closer to him. I'm not cold; I just want to be held. I've been so alone for so long, even his comfort is making me feel a little better. The man's arms wrap around me, holding me tightly. "Don't…" I sniffle into his shirt, "Don't put me back in there."

"I won't have to if you promise to behave yourself from now on. You eat what I tell you."

I nod weakly. "I…I'm allergic to strawberries."

He smiles. "Would you eat them if I told you to?"

That's a stupid question. Why would I eat something that could put me into an anaphylactic shock? Even with this realization, I find myself nodding.

The man's lips touch my own. "Then," he whispers, "You will never have to eat them. I don't want anything happening to my Aiden."

"Do you love me again?" The words feel so foreign but I had to ask. If he loves me like he says, why did he want me in that trunk? Why did he ignore me that time?

"I'll always love you." He tries to kiss me again, his dry lips pressing against my own. They stay there longer than before, this time his tongue playing outside my press lips. Sure I've kissed before, but do I really want to do so with my capture? Don't I want to go home? I'm so scared and confused. I don't know what to do any more.

My lips part and his tongue darts in. The man makes a happy noise, pushing me back into the bed. He's devouring my mouth, mapping it into memory. I do nothing in return, laying prone, my eyes half-lidded. I can only watch and wait to see what he would do next. Will he finally take me? I think on that question. Why hasn't he fucked me yet? At the same time, what's taken him so long to just kiss me?

Pulling away, the man takes a deep breath. He's watches me with lust, his eyes darting down my body. I'm too weak to try and shield my fragile frame. "I want you so bad," he whispers. "But it's too soon. Let me…May I suck you off, Aiden?"

I don't want to be touched down there. My eyes water at the thought of letting him anywhere near my penis for anything other than cleaning it. His hand slides down my body, to my flaccid penis. "N, no…" I sob, watching him. He stops, his eyes darkening. My heart stops. He's going to beat me again. It's too soon; I just want to feel human contact. "L, let me…you." His face relaxes and a small smile takes his features.

It doesn't take long for his pants to fall to the ground. He maneuvers himself over to where I am, helping me into a seated position. There, he sits on his knees near my face, aligning his growing penis against my lips. Again, I'm daunted with the task of sucking a man off. Will he hit me if I'm still not good at it?

Forcing my arms to rise, I hold hips, remembering the feeling of them forcing the hard penis down my throat last time. Swallowing the head, I try to relax my throat. I try to think of it as anything but a penis, but its firm hardness is a constant reminder. The masculine smell feels my nostrils. I look up at him one last time before focusing on how much I can get into my mouth without making myself sick.

My grip on his hips tightens and I try to move my face closer to the belly of the man. Thick pubic curls tickle my nose, forcing me to pull back as my throat tightens instinctively. The man groans, rubbing my head.

"So good…"

Trying this again, I pull forward to swallow his cock. My tongue rolls against the head, tasting bath soaps and salt. He's so big, I realize as the corners of my mouth begin to strain at having something so big in my mouth. Pulling back, I focus just on the head. Licking the red tip, I brush my tongue down its length. He twitches against my cheek. His balls tighten against my face. I try not to look at them, bringing myself forward again along the tip. Clear semen gathers at the top, and I lick it off. The salty taste doesn't bother me this time as I swallow the head again, forcing him back into my mouth.

He's starting to thrust into my mouth again; my hands aren't strong enough to keep him from forcing himself too far. He's moaning my name as he fucks my mouth. Apparently I'm much better than I was last time and he doesn't think he'll last much longer. Bringing my hands forward, I wrap them around the base of his cock, speeding myself up. I don't know how porn stars can do this. My mouth is so dry and he's so big. If he comes in my mouth while I'm sucking him off, I just know I'm going to choke.

As if hearing my thoughts, he grunts, pumping himself into my mouth with his first huge wad sprayed into my throat. It was quickly followed by a second, third, and then forth before he pulled out of my mouth, rapidly rubbing towards the head of his penis. Two small globs touched my lips before he completely pulled away, breathing heavily.

"Will you swallow for me?"

Brushing my tongue along my lips, I cleaned the mess, making a show of swallowing his cum. The man smiled, giving me another kiss. "I love you so much, Aiden." He wrapped his arms around me.

Leaning my head into his chest, I could only wonder one thing. If I am becoming Aiden, what happens to Mark?

"Do you love me?"

Can you love someone you don't even know the name of? I can only obediently respond back, "I love you."

The man wraps his huge arms around me, laying us both in the bed. "I'm so glad I found you, Aiden."

If I am Aiden, what happens to Mark…? Closing my eyes, I let that question sink down into my very soul.


	3. The Submission

My knees hurt, my hips hurt, my ass hurts – all in that order. How long have I been in this position? Is he trying to test himself? I wiggle my bottom, trying to ease the weight on my knees, my neck straining to look over my own shoulder at him. The gag stuffed in my mouth brushes over my shoulder and I shiver feeling his eyes eating away at my soul. The man comes again when he notices me watching him masturbate. Licking his lips, he spreads his legs some more to give me a good view at his huge, uncut cock.

Shifting my hips again, I groan as the vibrator lodged up my ass brushed deeper into my bowels. I sob as my rigid cock only hardens further. My traitorous dick loves it up the ass while I can't stand it. The man says I'm good at it, just like I'm a good cock-sucker. It enrages me. I am not gay, I'll never be gay.

The man reaches between my ass cheeks and turns the vibrator from its medium setting to its highest. Jumping, I scream into the gag as the phallus is removed from my insides only momentarily before being pushed back. I can feel the switch along my sphincter muscles. My fingers grip the rug under me when his hands wrapped around my penis, jerking me off. The cock ring blocks my release again. Sobbing, I turn my head, trying to shut my conscious out from this reality.

His fingers slide up my stomach, over my chest and along my jaw. Tilting my head back, I can only stare up at him, my arms shaking as my hips move. "God, I love you."

I look at the ground. He doesn't love me. He loves this body, even though it is bony and broken. He doesn't know me just as I don't know him. This is all wrong. Sobbing, I turn my head to look at him. I don't know if I want to see the contemplation on his face or if I wanted him to see how scared I was, either way we watched each other from afar. "Please..."

"Do you want to come?" He thumbs the head of my hard penis. Moaning, I twist my hips from him, only to push the toy against that bundle of nerves again. Yes, I want to come, but not by his hand. I wonder if he'll let me just masturbate in front of him just to get this all over with. I'm tired and hungry, my body aches, and I just want to go soak in the tub I have privilege to use. "God, I want you so much."

I shiver as he works the cock ring off from around the base. My erection bobs, pre-pooling at the crown of it. The man settles onto the carpet, holding his arms open wide. "Come here, Aiden." I look away, trying to force my erection away with non-arousing thoughts. They don't work; I'm too close to the edge to back away. I'd probably ejaculate at the lightest touch. "Aiden!" Jumping, I quickly move myself over to his lap, unsure how he wants me.

Is this finally it? Not that I wanted it, I always imagined the first time with my captor being a rough assault that left me dead. I mean, every time I saw rape on television it was always dramatized as a violent fervor of physical prowess that left the woman trying to crawl her battered body away for help. Considering how long I've been in this prison without such an attack, I don't think he'd physically force me into having sex with him but I might be wrong. I'm new to all this, I don't know what he wants.

My body shakes as he helps my legs on each side of his hips, our penises brush together causing me to shiver. He's hardening again, right under me. It is then that his big hand wraps around my cock and his, stroking both together. Just feeling foreign flesh pressed against my own caused me to shiver, wanting to grab hold of his broad shoulders and thrust up. My hips began to move just as my breathing became fractured. I needed, no – I wanted this. Screaming into the gag, my head fell back as I finally came into his hand, against his and my chest.

Finally dropping into his arms, I shifted around, letting my legs slide out from under me. My whole body pressed against his large frame causing the man to shudder as he came between us. Breathing heavily, the man took my jaw into his hands again, unclasping the ball gag. It fell from my mouth with little resistance, only to be replaced by his mouth. His tongue, thick and long, pressed into my own slender one, brushing against my own. I moan unintentionally, my hands (bound together by the handcuffs) press against his chest, trying to push him away. He finally backs off, looking pleased with himself. I pierce my lips to keep him from stealing another open mouth kiss.

"Damn, I'm the luckiest man in the world to have you." He pecks my firmly closed lips. Releasing the handcuffs, the man brushes his hands down my hips towards my bottom. With mastered fingers, he removes the vibrator. "Go get a bath drawn for us."

Wanting to do anything to get away from him, I nod and push myself to my feet. It takes a few steps before I can actually make it into the bathroom where I settle myself on the floor next to the tub. My gaze falls on the door, removed from its hinges and resting along the far wall. It's a painful reminder that there's no escape, not even inside the man's home. I've tried running to the door, screaming, and locking myself into rooms, but he's proven himself a steady match. I'm almost ashamed to say I've given up hope.

And I mean 'almost'. There's a part of me that doesn't want to surrender into this life. With the outside world only feet away, it's hard not to want to just scream until my throat bleeds, but it'll do me no good. The man's got the landlord wrapped around his finger. A few apologies and taking the owner out for dinner was enough to get the old man off his back. That night, my shoulder was popped out of the socket and I learned quickly the screaming will get me nowhere.

Rolling my shoulder subconsciously, I turned on the faucet. As I was reaching to put the plug in its rightful place, I felt the man pressed against me. His cock brushes against my ass, causing my buttocks to tense. "I had a dream last night..."

Oh god. My body shakes. "A-about what?" I know the answer, but he likes me to play along in this sick game. Besides, with my face so close to the filling bath tub, not answering could mean being possibly drowned.

"Us. You got on your knees, just like this and  _begged_  me to fuck you." He's cock was rubbing against my ass, the thrusts becoming quicker. Clenching the edge of the tub in my hands, my knees buckled under me. I would have fallen face first into the water had the man not stopped me with a well planned grab at my hips. "Moaning my name, begging for more, telling me you love me. Will you say it to me, here and now?"

Maybe I should push my head under the water. It won't be a quick death though. I've heard of people flail the entire time, trying to fight for air. Would it really be that bad to end my own life? Maybe it'll be like falling asleep. I snort at the thought.

The man rubs my back, his large hands wrapping around my penis. Trying to ignore him, I reach forward to grab lavender bubble bath. "Say it Aiden, for me." He rubs his face against my own. His skin is covered with sharp bristles of afternoon shadow, a reminder of the distinguishingly _male_ that was him. "'I love you, Joey'." He rubs my cheek again. "Say ' _I love you, Joey'_."

Looking at him, I can't turn away. Joey. His name is Joey. That sounds so  _normal_ , like some New York Want-To-Be-Gangster. Joey – Joseph? My bottom lip quivers. I always wanted to know his name but now I'm just not sure. Knowing who he is makes this not only real, but normal. I shiver, pushing myself from the tub. Twisting my frame, I press myself back against the bathtub, watching my captor's movements. "Joey," My voice cracked. "Please, stop this. I won't tell anyone, just let me go home."

"Aiden, we've been over this: you are home."

"My home! I promise, no one will ever know and-!" A fist slamming into my face forced me onto my side, my vision blackening. I sobbed as another punch aimed into my head. Trying to shield my face, I screamed as he climbed over me. The beating stopped, giving me enough time to crack open one eye to see what else was going to happen next. Joey's arm was raised up, ready to strike again. Rolling onto my side, I pulled myself into the fetal position, my arm slung over my face to protect myself.

Joey stood at full length and my belly tenses instinctively, waiting for him to start kicking the shit out of me. It never comes as instead he turns off the tap. He then proceeds to pick me up, climbing in the tub with me in his arms. I'm too scared to fight him as I'm rested against his chest in the hot water. It's filled up to my chin but, between the two of us, there isn't any room for me to slide forward to drown myself. I can't stand it anymore. My face hurts, I can barely open my eyes fully, and I think I've lost a tooth. A quick glide over my teeth finds them all accounted for.

A wash cloth dabs against my face, setting off sensitive nerves. Wincing, I throw my head back, trying to escape the touches. "Aiden..."

"'Urts." I sob. A tear rolls down my cheeks.

"I'm so sorry, Aiden." Joey's arms wrap around my frame, his nose digging into my shoulder blade. "I didn't mean to hurt you. Sometimes you just make me so mad." His lips brush against my neck. "Please don't leave me. I love you."

Why does it sound like I have a choice whether I leave or not? Wiping my face with my wet hands, I pull my knees up, curling up into my chest. Joey rubs my shoulders, continuously whispering out in my ear that he wants for me to just be happy. Smartass remarks about being happy at home fall short as I opt for this nicer hold he has on me. It's so caring, like a concerned parent with their child trying to sooth the darkest of fears.

After some time, Joey grabs a wash cloth and body wash. He always spends an extraordinary amount of time during this baths making me clean with fruity scents that would make a woman jealous. He spends extra time working on my hair, as unkempt as it is. For everything else I go without, the toiletries he uses on me. The pampering is unbearable, but I don't say anything especially after the recent attack.

After shampooing my hair, the man has me stand and lean against the wall. I gladly do, purposely leaning my face into the cold wall. The man spreads my butt cheeks apart, a finger brushing my back entrance. The tip of his finger brushes past my barrier. Shivering, I attempt to look over my shoulder to see if he's planning on cleaning me with the hose hooked along the shower or if he was just wanted to exploit the power over me. His finger pulls out of me causing me to relax.

Something larger presses between my cheeks, licking my asshole. Flinching, I try to pull away from him. His hands stop me from pulling away as his tongue dives into my butt. "No! Please, no-!" I try to find something to grab to keep me standing. A mixture of disgust and pleasure overcomes me, making my knees buckle under me. "Not there..." I try again at pulling my hips away from Joey. Even nose deep in my butt, I can tell the man isn't pleased with being told what to do, especially not by me. I know I'm testing my luck, especially when he's in a violent mood. "Tha, that's dirty."

"You'll never be dirty to me."Joey brushes the pad of his thumb along the dimples of my butt. "Just relax."

His tongue enters me again, thrusting into and out. Large hands wrap around my penis, jerking me off. My weak body doesn't last long before I came again. Crumbling forward, I slid out of his hold and onto my knees. The water does nothing to wash away my shame.

"See, I told you that it would feel good." Joey licks semen from his hand, pleased with himself. "I never lie. Come on, let's get you dried."

Helping me out of the tub, I can't look at the man as he walks me towards living room with a towel. Sitting on the lone couch, the man has me sit on his lap. His naked flesh under me makes my stomach toss and turn. The large towel drops on my head as the man begins to work the fabric through my dark hair. Under his force, my body begins to rock forward causing me to shift around on his own rock hard penis. It's like a constant reminder of what he wants from me.

My heart begins beating rapidly at the thought of what he wants from me. He's done so much to me tonight; it occurred to me that maybe all I needed to do was give him my ass one time for him to let me go home. The man was delusional enough to think I actually loved him, maybe he thought I was playing hard to get as well? Mentally, I dismiss the idea. Joey was so damn sure that I was in love with him. I doubt he wanted a quick fling if he thought that the two of us were made for each other.

The towel slid from my shoulders as the man busied himself with my neck, leaving a trail down by back. "You'll never leave me, Aiden, get that thought out of your pretty little head." His hot breath rolls down my back like slime. "We were made for each other, do you not see that?"

My face still hurts from the earlier beating, reminding me of his rage when I don't agree with him. My eyes fall to the floor. It's still littered with cum. His cum. The vibrator lays abandoned to the side, long and narrow and almost innocent. "I...am..." I want to be defiant, but my body shakes at the thought. Am I really that eager to die? The man has promised me nothing but love for my docility. I'm so tired of fighting him. I may never make it home, but would I rather end my life in his clutches than have even the most minuscule of chances of returning home?

The words of my submission couldn't escape my lips. It would make it all the more real. Instead I maneuvered myself on his lap until I faced him. I've lost track of how many times my manly persona has been broken, leaving me a crying mass of broken child. Wrapping my arms around the man's neck, I ignore him tense under me. I could strangle him now if I wanted to, but the will just isn't there. Instead I cover his lips with my own.

I don't want to hear him say it anymore. I'm his. There's no escape from him, only through death. At least by being his lover, there's a chance that he'll grow bored of me and either kill me or release me. Joey's arms wrap around my smaller frame, pushing me back into the couch. I can tell that he's so excited. His erection is sliding between my ass cheeks, taunting my virgin butt. His movements are feverish. In his frenzy, I was sure he'd break one of my bones as he uses ever ministration he could just short of going down on me to give me an erection.

Hard and scared, I could only stare up at him, panting heavily. He lifts my legs, spreading my globes painfully apart. I have no time to change my mind about this as his pushes his dick into me. Joey groans loudly, dropping heavily on my shoulders. Clenching the sofa, I make no attempt to meet his thrusts. My body hurts so much. Why would anyone willing partake in anal sex?

The thought escapes me as he hits those nerves the vibrator had toyed with earlier. Throwing my head back, I attempt to pull away from his body. This only excites Joey more as he grabs my hips to pull me back. His aim becomes more precise, each hit eliciting some kind of response from me. My traitorous body began to move on its own some time before. Closing my eyes, I tried to leave the situation, but I couldn't stay gone for too long.

"Aiden! Aiden!" Joey is lost in his own world as he plunders my own body. "Oh god!" He throws his head back as he erupts in my body. Hot liquid squirts against my prostate as well as his organ pulsate. It feels so gross, I wince. I don't have time to complain about the feeling though as he continues to plunge into me, trying to get deeper into my ass. My stomach rubs against his belly, slightly flabby with age. Wiry hairs give me a creepy crawly feeling, causing my erection to flag. Joey doesn't seem to care about my own completion as he slumps on me, completely washed out. "Damn, that was better than I thought it would be." The man pulls back. "Oh, Aiden, you didn't come."

His large hand wrapped around the head of my penis, his lips wrapping around the head. Air catches in my throat, coming out as a startled yelp. My hold on the couch relents in favor of hair. Tangled in blond hair, I could only yank trying to pull him away. Every nerve just sings in pleasure, wanting to feel more. The moment Joey deep throats me, it was over. Screaming his name, my back arches off the couch.

Joey pulls away, wiping his lips. "There, all better."

Panting from the couch, I brought my hands to my face. I can't believe I did that. I begin to cry.

"What's wrong, Aiden?"

I want to snap at him, make him realize how wrong all of this is. I couldn't find my voice, instead opting to cry about losing myself. By coming, I admitting I liked it. I like it up the ass. Flinching from the hand on my cheek, I try to slide between the cushions to escape. After several attempts, Joey abandons me to my depression.

But small part of me wishes that he would have remained seated on that couch, attempting to console me just a while longer.


	4. The Relocation

Leaning against the kitchen counter, I watch Joey storm through the house. Whoever was on the other side of the line was pissing him off and only I was in his line of fire. Returning to the stove, I poured the noodles into the boiling water and waited for another door to slam. Tensing my shoulders, I waited for Joey's voice to rise before relaxing. I was in the pace with his rage; I knew when to ready myself for a hit. Looking at the sauce jar, I licked my lips.

By no stretch of the word was I a cook. Joey assumed that as his little "boyfriend" or "wife" or whatever he called me, I was a natural cook. The last week had been filled with unevenly cooked meat and hardened noodles. This week, I was making another attempt at making spaghetti. Joey liked it even when some of the meat was pink, maybe eating something he liked would calm him down? I shifted nervously, looking at the ground meat in the pan. It looked cooked thoroughly this time but I wasn't sure. Shrugging my shoulders, I popped the lid from the spaghetti sauce jar, dropping the contents in a sauce pan. It splattered across the stove.

"What fucktard told you that?" Joey screeched as he stormed past me, kicking a box over. Paperwork slid out on the floor. Abandoning the sauce, I made my way to the mess, cleaning it up without meeting Joey's eyes. "I don't care! Change the account!" He stepped over me, returning to the side room I was never allowed in – his office. I heard his computer roar to life, signaling he wouldn't come out for a while.

Pushing the box to the side with many others, I made my way back to the kitchen to stir the spaghetti sauce, screeching that the water for the noodles was boiling over. Turning off the burner, I leaned against the dirty stove. How did my mother do this for years? I grabbed a cloth to clean the stove. The mess only spread. Feeling my stress levels rise, I padded the mess with more aggression.

No longer on the phone, Joey left his office, slamming the door behind him. Shifting through the refrigerator, Joey grabbed a can of beer. Popping the top, the man chugged it down while watching me. Unnerved by him, I reached for the spoon to stir the sauce. "What the hell, Aiden? I said make dinner." Grabbing the sauce pan from under my hand, Joey raised it above my head. The downpour on my head didn't startle me. I was lucky the goop hadn't had time to warm up on the faulty stove. Tensing up, I looked at the ground. "You like making messes?"

"I, I…" Crossing my arms across my naked, dirty chest, I stepped back. How do you explain to a man that won't listen you don't know how to cook? I tried; I've been trying for the last week. I would rather be chained to a hot radiator than standing in front of the hot oven. I could burn water. "Please don't be mad." I sob. "I'm sorry."

Two big hands tighten on my shoulders, shaking me. It only causes me to really start crying harder, afraid that he's going to beat me again. Recently he's been so happy with me but when his work becomes stressful he starts to yell and I always mess up. He doesn't mean to hurt me, he tells me that every night when we lie in bed after a short (painful) bout of love making. Sometimes, I just infuriate him. If I did things right the first time, he wouldn't get so mad.

"Can't you do anything right! It's spaghetti! Fuck!" He pushes me back, going to the stove. Moving the dishes around, Joey looked over the mess in the kitchen. "God, I need to go make another call. Get this kitchen clean." Grabbing his beer, Joey storms out of the small alcove and disappears into his office. The door remains open so he can watch me but I don't move from the floor, looking over the puddle of tomato sauce.

Cleaning it took forever. I learned a few basics about sauce and stains, filing them into memory. After an hour of cleaning, I heated up the noodles again as well as the meat before looking through the cupboards for something to use as a sauce substitute. I ended up finding two cans of tomato paste, which I used water and spices to fix up.

Twenty minutes later, I was setting the table with plates from boxes being stored around the apartment. I hated living like that and couldn't wait until we could put them all away again. Joey told me we were moving, I haven't asked for details on this because I doubt he'd tell me anything more than this town isn't good for our "relationship". Cleaning myself in the sink, I take a deep breath before moving back towards his office. "Joey?" I lean against the frame, careful about stepping into the man's office.

"Kitchen clean?" His voice is rough, still hinting anger at however was on the phone.

"Yes. I finished dinner."

"Eat without me."

I pierce my lips together. No matter the mood, he always eats with me. It might be a quiet dinner but he always there. It's our time. I bite my lip from saying that out loud. Lately, I've been having the strangest of thoughts. "How about a bath?"

Joey freezes at the computer. I can see charts on the monitor but I make no attempt at asking what it is he does outside the apartment. "Aiden, just go eat dinner."

"I don't want you being mad." It's not good for my health. I tighten my grip on the door frame when he pushes his desk chair back. Ready to propel myself towards the backroom, I'm surprised when his fingers brush through my lengthening hair. He doesn't say anything, just watches me, trying to get lost in my eyes. I tense when I see sauce on his hand; I'm sure I'd cleaned myself better than that. Instead of yelling, however, he licks the mess while still watching me.

"I have work to do, Aiden. Bring me my plate and once you're done eating and washing dishes, we'll take a bath together."

I'm sure my face brightens up with that. I know he's hinting towards sex in the tub but I don't care enough to argue it. I hate fucking that man because it borders rape but if that means he's not going to hurt me anymore tonight I don't care. "Can we have bubbles?" The lavender puts him to sleep so well.

Joey smiles, his lips brushing my temple. "Whatever you want." Smiling, I rush back to the kitchen to grab my plate. I grab his plate as well, making my way back to the office. I put his plate slightly past the threshold before leaning against the wooden panel to suckle down my spaghetti. My stomach rolls in revolt, the tongue tasting pizza the stomach tasting noodles.

Our life together has become a pretty standard one that I'm reluctant to say I've grown used to. I love to know he'll come home from work while Clark Might is just coming off the radio for DJ-5, which he'll take me in his arms and kiss me telling me everything is all right. I don't hear my mom calling the radios anymore so I figure she's given up looking for me, which could account to some of Joey's good mood. While still faulty on what I should do, especially since I'm locked in the back room a good portion of the day, I busy myself in there making the bed while reading old magazines that Joey did leave lying around.

Although since they're porn magazine – gay ones – I wonder if he purposely laid them around to give me new ideas for bed. I shun that thought, quite happy with just going down on him, letting him fuck me brutally, and then laying in his arms crying about what I've become.

The plate on the floor is picked up and Joey joins me on the floor. His expression doesn't change as he takes the first bite of my strange spaghetti concoction. By his sixth bite he finally tells me to stick to the recipe in the binder he gave me. Pressing a kiss to my lips to his for not yelling at me for messing up again, I take both of our empty plates to the kitchen to wash them before putting them away.

I couldn't help myself while taping up the plate boxes. "Joey, where are we moving?"

Joey doesn't shift away from his computer monitor. "Ohio."

"Oh." I've never left the state before and Ohio seems so far away from Colorado. "Is it pretty there?" I can't help but ask. "I hear it floods." Now I'm just making conversation, trying to get details.

"Very pretty." Joey nods. "It's a small town where I grew up, my dad has a farm out there that's been in my family forever and I'm going to make it our home. I told him all about you." He smiled over at me. That makes me wonder what his dad thinks of me. I don't fuck two guys. I dry the sink with a rag before leaning against the door frame again. "Are you about to take your bath?"

I nod.

"Go fill the tub and I'll be there in a second."

After a few minutes, he and I are both sitting in the small tub, our knees bent to give room for the other. Pressed against his chest, I shift around the lavender bubbles, enjoying the relaxing atmosphere as Joey tells me what our life is going to be like once we move.

Apparently we're not safe in our small town. A lot of people don't want our love to be true and he feels it is in both of our best interest. There, we can be outside together without scrutiny. I didn't mention to him that the reality was we couldn't be seen "together" because we weren't a couple and that I was a victim of his delusions Rubbing my eyes, I turned in Joey's arms, curling into his side. Water slouched over the edge of the tub as I made myself comfortable.

"When are we leaving?" I struggle to keep my eyes open. Sweet lavender, I smile. "Do I get to sit up front? I don't want to go in the trunk. I'll be good." My voice sharpens at the thought of being put in my trunk for the duration of the trip. Since the night of the soup, I've only been put back in the trunk a handful of times. The solitude and confinement work better than being flung into walls.

Joey's arms wrap around my middle, his thumb brushing a sensitive spot under my belly. Tensing, I stretched out over him, trying to get away. "Do you promise to behave?" He whispered.

"Mm, of course." I turned, wrapping my arms around him. Like the first time I did this, he tenses under me expecting the worst. I still feel the temptation to tighten my grip around that thick neck, squeeze the life from him. Bringing my lips to his cheek, I kiss there first; his rough cheek scratches my lips causing my nose to twitch. "You really want to sit with me?" I nod against his neck. I'm not ready for him to push on my legs to spread them apart. Bent over his hips, I can feel his fingers probing my backside, pushing water into my sensitive insides. My voice is lost in his mouth; my thoughts disappear knowing there's no fighting it. It's hard to act like I don't enjoy it because it's hard not to like any of what Joey does to me in those moments.

My body becomes putty in his hands. He knows all my special spots, especially that one inside of me. He might be rough with my body but he always knows how to make me come in the end. My gasps ignite a flame in him I didn't know existed. Joey bucks like a bronco once, twice, thrice and I'm screaming as he slams into me. His hands slide against my sides, his thumbs still against my stomach. I'm clinging to his neck in seconds, riding him so hard it causes the water to overflow in waves. He'll probably make me clean the bathroom floors before bed but I'm too busy calling his name to care. After some time, my thoughts become lost and I'm no longer thinking about punishment or anything outside that bathroom.

Two days later, dressed in an outfit specifically purchased by Joey for me, I stare longingly at the open road. The sun isn't even up and Joey's busy finishing our move. I hear the bed door of the truck slam, causing the truck the shift. Tilting my head to the side, I ignore the pillow pressed between me and the window. Joey claims it's for me to lay my head on because I'm not used to waking up in the morning like he is, I think it's because he doesn't want anybody looking in and noticing me. I doubt they'd even recognize what I've become.

Brushing my now chin length hair back, I chew on a nail as Joey climbs into the driver's seat. This is it. I'm leaving. I shift nervously looking between Joey and the city I've called home my whole life.

I found out the minute I stepped out of the apartment (the first time since my capture) that we've only been a few blocks from my neighborhood. He lives in the ratty part of town which is why my cries had been ignored for so long. Geoff, my friend from English class, lives not even an apartment down but I've never actually been in this neighborhood, at least not long enough for someone like Joey to have noticed me.

As the engine roars to life, I shift again. "Can I see my house?"

"We will in a day or two. I'm thinking we'll stop in either Nebraska or Iowa to catch a few Z's. Then we'll continue on from there." Joey starts the car in the opposite direction of my parents blue siding house. Craning my head, I fight the urge to wave as well as scream. Once I pass the Colorado border, I realize, escape is minimal. I won't know how to get home and no one's going to believe I was actually 'kidnapped' no matter how starved I look. I never hated being born a boy than I have the last few weeks (months?).

Fresh snow shifts under the ground and I press my nose to the window to look out at it. "What month is it?"

"November." Joey rolls his eyes as if I were supposed to know that. I frown. I was kidnapped in August. Has it only been three months? Swallowing, I watch the city as it flashes past me. Faintly, I hear the click of the locks. Stupid, I could just pull on the lever and release the locks. I could kick the door open and slide out. There are shops everywhere and someone has to be out there ready to start the day. I wait for my body to do so but it doesn't move from my spot, looking at the dark skies as it lightens up with sun.

I must have pressed my face to that window for hours because when I finally feel pressure in my back my cheeks and nose are cold. Pushing back, I grab my pillow and stare ahead of me, only glancing at the time for a second. It's nine, we left at six. I've been getting lost in my thoughts easier the last few months. Before this, I couldn't sit still for hours now I'm content as long as no one's touching me.

With his hand on both the wheel and the stick shift, Joey is too busy focusing on his driving to pay me any mind and I'm quite happy at that. Digging around on the ground, I pull out a package of poptarts. "Would you like half?" I hold the second pastry towards Joey.

"Feed me?" He gives me a sweet smile.

Without a second thought, I do so. Each piece is broken off rotating between his and my mouth until he says enough. He ate most of it; my stomach can't handle the food, especially all the sugar so I put the remaining half back in its bag and box. Shifting to the side of the door, I curl up into my pillow. "I've never left the state."

"I know." Joey smiles.

"Tell me again about where we're going?"

And he does. I doze halfway through his long speech about the farm he grew up on and all the open space. I don't wake up again until he shakes me, letting me know we're at our first pit stop. Climbing out of the truck, I stretched my back before taking in my surroundings. Open land and a lone gas station. As he fuels up, I stand to the side waiting for him to finish so we can both go to the toilets.

"We still in Colorado?"

"We left awhile ago." Joey smiles, ruffling his big hand through my hair.

Pouting that I missed it, I beg him to tell me when we leave the next state.

I find that this trip is the most momentous one in my life because it's not only the first one I went on without my family, it is also the first time that Joey tested his boundaries with me. It didn't mean much to me at that moment being told I could go to the toilets at a McDonalds in Nebraska on my own nor did it mean much being left alone in the car while Joey checked us in at a small hotel seventy miles out of Des Moines, Iowa. With my help, I get him to the room and we both lie on the bed closest to the door. In seconds he's asleep and I'm left quietly cleaning in the bathroom.

The chance to run was there but I made no attempt. Until midnight I watched late television before climbing in bed with him. Running away was the furthest thing from my mind as I slept peacefully through the night.

We traveled again all day the following day. "It's a twenty-one hour drive," Joey explained as we make it into Illinois. Again my face is pressed to the window, just watching the surroundings. We're going further north and I constantly want to stop to view landmarks. Even though it's November though, there isn't much snow on the ground between Indiana and Illinois, in stark comparison of where we just came from. In fact, the weather is only slightly cold. I don't think too much on it though because really, I didn't care.

Questions, however, filled up all the quiet in the car and Joey loved to pretend that he knew the answer to everything I asked. I kept waiting for him the fumble a question but it never came.

My pace quickens when we reach Ohio late that evening. Joey wants to drive throughout the night, so we can get to his daddy's farm. He blames me for us coming in so late but I didn't control the weather. Licking my lips, I tell him I want to make it up to him at a hotel. I don't want to arrive at his daddy's because then it'll all become real. This is the final stretch, there's no going home at this point.

Even with the promise of making him feel good, Joey continues the drive. Soon we're off the interstate, at a small town I scarcely remember the name of as we make it through narrow back roads. When we turn onto an old gravel path, I'm at the window again knowing this is it. I can't see past all the darkness but Joey seems to know where he's going. We're here. I shake like a leaf, scared about what's in store.

I've thought a lot about what Joey's dad's going to be like. I want to believe he's a good man who will realize I don't want to be there. He'll get his son some help once he saves me from his boy's clutches. I look at Joey, who seems to be smiling from ear-to-ear. The gravel road seems to go on forever until he pulls up to a little ranch style house in the middle of nowhere. I look earnestly for his dad's car but see no other signs of life beyond us.

"Is your dad here?" I ask.

Joey raises a brow. "Why would he be here? It's his house but he died two months ago. I just got it and the land finalized under my name. Come on. I'll show you around, we'll unpack tomorrow." He comes around to my side, helping me out of the vehicle – something he's been more apt at doing since Des Moines when I nearly fell out because I couldn't find my land legs.

As the automatic door for the first garage slides open, Joey's fingers lace in my own. He seems excited, I note. Cautiously stepping in, I look around. It's a two door garage however they're both a separate room. The wood paneling on the left, I discover, enters the house and Joey drags me into the first room.

The foyer is a laundry room that has three doors – a front door (why didn't we use this, I wonder), the garage door, and a back door. I guess that it was an attached room later because there's a window that I believe leads into a bedroom. I shake my head at this as Joey enters a second hallway in front of us. I realize that that was another door way, only with the door removed from its hinges. In front of us in the small hallway is a stairwell leading down to the basement. To the left of me is an upper level kitchen. We turn into there.

The kitchen turns to a sharp L in studio gallery form. Joey moves around gracefully, opening cabinets to tell me where he wants what dishes. The stove, he informs me, is gas and he'll explain it later. There's hardly a dining space, I note, but where it's supposedly at stands in front of a wide patio door with a wooden deck. I look out, seeing his truck off in the wide.

Opening up from the kitchen is the living room with an ugly rug. Like the rest of the house, it's bare but Joey makes promises to get the furniture I like. He's been saving, apparently, to make this house ours. I don't question it because it's none of my business as long as there's a bed somewhere; I'm dead on my feet.

Behind the kitchen and living room are the bedrooms, separated from everything else by a small hall. Two bedrooms face each other with a bathroom in between. One bedroom (the one with the window) is Joey's office, the other, which faces the long line of trees, is our bedroom. He pushes the door open to show the only piece of furniture in the whole house, a bed.

"I don't know about you," Joey rubs his hands together, "but I'm ready to make this place our own."

I want to step back but his hand is still interlocked around my own. "I'm really tired." The words slip from my mouth so quickly.

"You've slept the entire trip. Come on." Tugging my arm, Joey leads me to the bed.

Not even ten minutes later, he rolls off me fully sated. I can only stare at the strange ceiling wondering where I'm at and how do I escape.


	5. The Words

The disappointment in me does little to change my behavior. I haven't thought of my mom in weeks. It wasn't until the weather warmed up causing the snow to melt did I actually think of my life beyond this little ranch. I've been too busy to mope about, imagining my life before Joey. If I look bored, Joey propositions me and I don't want that most of the time. So, I don't really think. I figure I'd be depressed if I sat around and thought of my current predicament. Instead I go about doing chores and waiting for my life to find some real meaning.

I can't say I'm unhappy. Joey bends over backwards to make me think I want this and sometimes I feel I do. Time stands still inside his home and I'm not forced into thinking about my future. I don't worry about my classes or keeping up with peers; I'm not worried about college or paying bills. Here, I have Joey to take care of me forever and always. My freedoms may be limited but all cares outside my new world disappear.

And it relaxes me.

The biggest threat to my health is the man I sometimes think I love. Some days he's a saint, keeping his distance when I don't want to be bothered. Other times, when he just wants to be left alone he finds little things about me that irritate him and attacks. I deserve the beatings because I do make mistakes. I know his moods. By now I should know when to not bother him but I'm unrelenting, knocking on his door or slamming drawers. He always apologizes after but it's not going to fix anything. Subconsciously, just like he says, I love to piss him off.

He says I get off on it. I don't know that for sure but he says if I didn't enjoy it, I wouldn't make him so mad sometimes.

Time is at a standstill here. Outside the dining room's sliding doors to the patio shows the change of season but inside I'm as unaware of the date as ever before. There are no calendars and Joey doesn't hold a consistent schedule. It could still be November and I wouldn't know it. The spring flowers, however, make me realize how much I miss my mom. Usually this time of the year she's forcing me out of bed to help work on her gardens. I wonder if Joey will let me make a garden out there.

Pressing my hands to the glass, I ignore the smudge I'm making. I just want to run out there, even in a mock attempt at freedom. The lack of sun is causing my skin to whiten to a sickly color. Looking in the mirror makes me realize how much I've changed.

My brown hair has grown, meeting around my shoulders now. Some days I pull it back in a pony tail. Other days I just contemplate how easy it would be to take a knife to the strands for a haircut. Joey likes my hair long though, so I think I'll keep the style for a little while longer. My face has fattened up again and it's almost impossible to tell the time that I was starved. Now I don't take meals lightly. Since I make every dish in the house, it's only right that I get to have some of the meal with Joey. Because I get three meals a day, I'm almost at my old figure again.

The porcelain skin is what throws me. I've never been this white. Even during the off season I try to keep some time in the sun and it leaves me with a light tan. Now I look like my mother, which is why I've been thinking about her more often. Every time I look in the mirror I see her.

My fingers curl when I lay my forehead against the cold glass. Closing my eyes, I lose myself for a second in the outside, splashing through mud puddles as I hunt down a baseball.

"Do you have a headache, Aiden?"

Snapping out of my dreams, I twist to smile up at Joey to let him know I'm fine. "Just enjoying the warmth. It's the first time we've had a day like this since we moved out here. I like it." I turn back around, returning to my original position. I jump out of my skin when I feel a heavier body press against my back. Joey's arms coil around my center as he nestles his nose into my hair, breathing deeply. "What's into you?"

"I think it's nicer in here with you." Joey whispers against the shell of my ear. I know he's hinting at sex. He's insatiable for an old guy. He can't go continuously but he likes to fuck me at least twice a day with hours in between the two romps. He won't force me into it but he'll coerce me into it through little motions that turn me on. His lips against my neck cause me the shiver, waiting for his hands to move. They do. My waist is sensitive to me. A hand on my waist, pressing me into the glass, controlling my every move, is enough to get me to stop fighting. "Do you want me?"

Lacing my fingers with his larger ones on my hips, I shift my body against his cock letting him know I don't mind this time.

He would never rape me. That is the thing that confuses me the most. Here I am: kidnapped and held hostage. He wants me sexually but he won't force me into anything I don't want myself. Even our first time was initiated by me. He'll drag me to the room but he'll never enter me unless I say that is what I want. He throws this in my face as well. When I throw back that this is rape, he will demand to know where he's ever forced me into something I didn't want. The blow jobs, hand jobs, and sex are all linked back to me asking for it, agreeing to it, or wanting it.

Somewhere in my confused mind I know this is rape but he makes me forget that I'm not gay.

The zipper of his pants is lowered and my hand is guided by him into the open slot. The foreign feel of his cock makes me shiver and press against the window. This will probably fast and impersonal, I already know it. He's been in his office all morning with what I can guess was tax papers and phone calls. His job as an accountant was leaving him more stressed lately than the last few months.

Rubbing his hard cock, I pull it out of his pants before my eye catches something move outside. Pausing in my action, I slid away from Joey to show him what had pulled into our gravel driveway. A red truck with tinted windows was pulling up towards the garage, shutting off. "Go to our room." Joey squeeze my hand before zipping himself up. Covering my naked flesh with my arms, I rushed off, praying that the visited didn't see too much.

Shutting the sturdy wood door behind me, I dropped on the carpet with my knees curled under me. The visitor's voice booms from the hallway leading to the front door, garage, and back door. It reminds me that I need to fold laundry, which is probably about to cycle through. How long did this visitor want to stay? It was a refreshing pace of things but when I wasn't allowed to be out there, it left me realizing how many chores I had yet to get a start on. I shouldn't have stood at that door for so long.

The visitor is now in my kitchen, talking so familiar with Joey. He annoys me even from hear because I don't know Joey that well. Jumping to my feet, I fling open the closet, staring over my lover's clothes. I know I'll be in trouble for covering my body but I don't want to be stuck in here when I should be working. Hearing Joey's voice raise as he starts to yell at the visitor only encourages me more.

The soft fabric of Joey's shirt feels weird against my skin. His pants even more so as I feel like I'm being restrained. My breathing quickens but I force myself to slow down as I buttoned up the shirt. Joey's pants slide down my sides so I grab a belt, tightening it around my hips. Pleased, I take a deep breath before sneaking out of the room. Joey's yell stops me at the threshold, telling the visitor (a Jeffery) to get out of the house.

Stepping into the front room, I brought my arms behind my back. Joey's eyes grew wide as he watched me. The muscle in his jaw twitched and I knew he was restraining himself from yelling. For a second I wanted to throw myself at the visitor and tell him about my kidnapping. The only thing that stopped me was his eyes. Those were the same eyes Joey had.

"Hi!" I plastered on a grin. "Would you like some tea? We were about to settle for some lunch—"

Jeffery turned to his brother, giving him a narrow look before smiling at me. "I'm just stopping by to see my little brother. I'm Jeffery Montgomery, and you?" He held out his hand. I eyed his hand wearily but shook it all the same.

"Aiden." The name left my lips so smoothly it's hard to believe that's not my real name. Jeffery accepts it all the same, his hand tightly holding my own. Pulling away, I opened pantries, looking for something to quickly make for lunch. "Joey, are you okay with soup and sandwiches? We haven't had that in awhile." I can feel his eyes staring into the back of my head. I almost regret coming out but I'm in too deep to quit now.

"Where are you from, Aiden?" Jeffery sits at the table, letting his brother know he'll be staying for lunch.

Craning my neck back, I see Joey giving me the eye, trying to warn me of the hell I would pay after all this. "Cleveland." It's the only place in Ohio I know. "I met Joey out there and when my parents kicked me out for being…y'know," I couldn't say it because I wasn't and none of this had happened, "Joey took me in because he's the sweetest, kindest man in the world." I step up to Joey, wrapping my arms around his middle to drop my head on his chest.

My grip loosens when he returns my hug, kissing the top of my head.

"Why don't you finish lunch, Aiden?" I nod, stepping back. Jeffery watches me walk away, his eyes watching me like a lion does its prey. It makes me nervous, him being in the same room with me. I don't know why, really.

I make chicken noodle soup from the can and made three ham and cheese sandwiches on the side while Jeffery and Joey talk. Apparently Joey hasn't spoken with his family since moving into their father's old home. He's also curious about me but I'm tight lipped about anymore, knowing that my lies would start to conflict after awhile. Joey does great filling in the holes, explaining how I came about living with him.

"How old are you anyway, Aiden?" Jeffery asks when accepting a sandwich plate from me.

Sixteen. "Just turned nineteen."

With a hearty laugh, the older man threw his head back. It cracks a small smile from me. "By God! Do we get old or do kids these days get younger."

"Speaking of getting older, Jeff, how's Sarah?" Joey changes the subject from me. I don't argue this change as I attempt to eat, the long sleeves I'm wearing dipping into my soup as I go. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I want to take off these clothes. They're so stiff. I make a note to add more fabric softener the next time I do laundry. Joey's so sweet handling my deficiencies without complaint.

"She's fine. Misses hearing from you. Was a time you were visiting us every day but now it's so rare. The kiddies miss you too.  _When Unkie Joe comin'_? I get so tired telling them you're a busy man. Hell, you skipped Christmas!"

"I've been busy. I had to go out to Cleveland when Aiden called telling me his parents threw him out."

Jeffery shook his head, his dark eyes casting onto me. "Where did you two meet anyway? First time you ever mentioned an 'Aiden'."

"A business client's son. I met him a few years ago. Bro, I told you last August I was seeing someone."

"Yeah, in Colorado."

"It was long distance. We're new at this and when it finally leaked out that he was doing an older guy, his parents just threw him out." Joey dipped his sandwich in the soup. "Look, if you're going to bitch about who I have a relationship with, you can get out."

Jeffery shook his head, finishing off his sandwich. "Joey, relax. I don't have anything to say. Let me enjoy this time with you and Aiden. Will you two be coming to Little Susan's birthday?"

"Last time I saw her, she wasn't so little anymore. She's what, sixteen now?"

"Well, when you're a parent children always feel like babies."

"I'll think about it, okay?" Joey drained his soup bowl, eyes on the clock. I folded my hands on the table, only halfway through with my food and already full. "You came here for dad's old photographs? This Susan's or Sarah's project."

"Susan started it, wanted to know about our family history. Sarah started calling up family and asking about distant relatives. She's been mentioning starting a family tree. It'd be interesting to see."

Pushing from the table, Joey nodded to his brother. "I'll go get those then. I think I saw a box when I first moved in." He disappeared into the backroom, his office, where a lot of the things I couldn't find a place for went. I'm sure he has seen a box there as he wouldn't willingly leave me out here without being able to keep an ear on things. Gripping the edge of the table, I try to still my beating heart all while fighting the urge to throw myself into Jeffery's arms and beg to be taken home.

"I never got your last name, Aiden." Jeffery comments, his eyes focused on the living room. For the most part the family pictures that had been up when I first came were removed. Joey had complained about them, saying they haunted his sleep. I didn't ask questions when I removed them and put each one in a box. Like a lot of things from the old apartment, those disappeared quickly.

I chewed on my tongue, not sure how to respond. I could just tell him my real name, it would be so easy. I open my mouth, ready to tell him my real name, my social security number, anything that could let him know I'm not supposed to be there but all I could say back was, "I didn't tell you."

The man doesn't laugh as he folds his hands under his chin. "You can tell me anything,  _Aiden_."

Glancing up towards him, I feel sweat at my temple. I could. His truck is outside; he could easily take me away from here. Then I remember its Joey's brother. This guy probably didn't trust  _me_. Some little kid supposedly thrown out by his parents is living with an older man. I didn't look like the kind to have a job and considering what he may have saw when he first came over, I'm sure that I look more of a threat than his brother ever could.

"Here's the box." Joey steps into the kitchen, dropping the old cardboard box on the table. My eyes dart up to him, begging him to send me back to the room where it's safe. "Need help carrying it to the car?"

"No, I got it. I've intruded long enough on you love birds. I'll call the next time I show…don't want to interrupt anything else." Jeffery chuckled, picking up the box. "Thanks for lunch, Aiden. Joey, I hope you do come to Susan's birthday. She'd love to see you there." Nodding to the two, the older brother left the kitchen. Joey followed.

As I started dishes, I could see the two out in the driveway from the window above the kitchen sink. Each second ticked like forever until Jeffery's car peeled away from the house, disappearing in a puff of gravel down the long road leading to civilization.

I didn't move a muscle when Joey stepped back in the house. Shoulders tense, I brought my hands up to start unbuttoning the shirt. Even though I was ready for it, the hand grabbing my forearm and turning my around harshly still surprised me. Gasping in pain, I brought my other arm up quickly to protect my head. "I'm so sorry, I wanted to be with you…I love you, I'm your Aiden." I cowered in fear, waiting for his already curled fist to slam in my face.

The large hand was raised above my head, Joey's face contorted with anger. "What the hell did you say to him?"

"Nothing! I swear!" I tried to pull away.

"When I tell you to go to the bedroom I mean to fucking stay in there!" Joey shook me roughly, my back slamming into the cabinet.

I'm crying now. There's hardly any pain outside my heart. "I swear, Joey…I didn't tell him anything! I came out to be a good host. I made food and when you left I didn't tell him anything. I love you, I want to stay here!" Trying to pull away from him, I drop to the ground, my arm extended towards him because of his grip. Now it's starting to hurt. The pressure on the joint is becoming too much, it'll probably pop out of place permanently if this keeps up. "Please-!"

Joey yanks hard and I'm forced into his chest. The new position takes some pressure off the joint. When Joey lets go of my arm, I slump into his arm, my hold on his shirt tight. Joey's hands fold under my chin, around my neck. They don't squeeze like I thought he would as he pulls my head back so I can look up at him. "I need you to listen to me. If I tell you to do something, do it. I don't want you to have to go away. I love you, Aiden." The last words are thrown into a hug around me the pulls me into his neck. Standing on my tip toes, I wrap my arms around his neck and cry.

I can't seem to stop apologizing no matter what Joey says to make me feel better. I finally stop talking when I feel his fingers brushing across my nipples, his lips against my ear. Freezing, I curl my fingers into his hair as I try to understand why he's initiating sex so soon after this fight. I'm not ready for make-up sex but I'm scared if I tell him no he'll think my display of crying was just a ruse.

"What about your work?" I moan when he leans in to chew on my exposed nipples. I love it when he focuses on my nipples. I've never thought of how sensual they could be until he pulls on mine.

"It can wait." Joey whispers dismissively across my nub. His warm breath does wonders on me and I pull him back into the peck.

"M, my laundry…"

"That can also wait." Joey picks me up, carrying me over to the dining room table in front of the large sliding doors he wanted to fuck me against before. Raising my legs to his hips, I keep him on me, wanting him to continue focusing on my nipples. He doesn't, taking my lips against his. Closing my eyes, I lose myself in a kiss as I've done numerous times before.

Joey's fingers slide down my sides, brushing every bump on my skin until they dig into my hips. Pulling off his mouth, my head fell back against the table. I can feel the pants I pulled on slide down my waist until they pool at my ankles. His belt slips, the cold leather touching my skin but I barely notice, too involved with claiming his lips again.

Dry fingers press into my ass, startling me out of my pleasure-filled hazed. Reaching for his forearm, I try my hardest to convey that he can't do this dry. I hate when he fucks me without any lotion because it leaves a burn across my asshole. Joey kisses my temple before unzipping his pants. His dick, hard as rock, presses against my opening, trying to wedge past the tight ring of muscle as two of his fingers spread my opening.

The moment the tip of his penis is nestled in me, his fingers leave my opening, running around the flagging erection. "Say it again…" Joey whispers in my ear.

I'm too busy trying not to think about the searing pain about having any part of him in me that he has to repeat that question again. "Repeat what…?" I finally whisper, squeezing his forearm.

"That you love me and want to stay here." Joey's lips brush against my neck, his hips slowly pushing his rigid penis inside of me. Crying out, I try to pull away. I try to remember ever saying those and the image of me begging for him not to hurt me, trying to ensure that he knew I kept quiet when alone with his brother.

I can't find the will to say them, even as he pushes all the way in. His balls brush against my butt, leaving a familiar creepy feeling against my skin. Clawing at his arm, I wince as he pulls out, not giving me time to adjust to the feeling of being stretched. He never gives me time to get used to this feeling but when he pushes back in I forget about being uncomfortable. "Uh!" Dropping back against the table, I feel my mouth dry up with pleasure. He pulls out and slams back in again, eliciting another noise from me. "Ngn! J-Joey! Ah!"

When he first entered me my legs had dropped from his waist, now they were back up around his hips pulling back into me. "Please say it again, Aiden…" Joey whispers in my ear, his movements slowing down and becoming tantalizingly slow.

His next thrust misses that spot that drives me wild and I find myself repositioning my body to get that touch again. When this does nothing, I find the words he desperately wants to hear. I said it once, saying it again will get easier. "I love you, Joey…" I can barely hear the words escape my own lips. "Take care of me, Joey." With his forearms still in my hands, I bring him down to kiss him, whispering closer to his face, "take care of me, please…"

Joey's eyes darken and my heart stops. He's pissed off again—

My thoughts stop there as he pulls out before slamming back into me. His thrusts are hard, fast, and deep. Each touches that spot that has me screaming to the high heavens, my head thrown back. This feeling… this wonderful feeling of being pleasured beyond my wildest imagination makes me enjoy waking up in the morning. "Oh god! Joey! I love you! Fuck!" The table begins to move under my weight, squeaking against the ground. The noise falls on our deaf ears though as I'm fucked in submission, repeating how much I love the man, my captor.

It never occurred to me before and wouldn't really enter my head until much later in the evening about those three words.  _I love you_  felt so powerful in those seconds of bliss. I'm left wondering when the difference between the truth and protective lies became obscure.


	6. The Freedom

The popcorn cemented ceiling has been the same for nearly two years. I've lost my self countless times in the bumps and ridges, trying to make designs as I wait for Joey to finish. I offer, every so often, a moan of delight or a groan to tell him he's doing something right, but my mind just isn't in the game. No, all I can think about is that it's been  _two years_ since I was found in that junk yard. Two years since I lost my identity and became Aiden Montgomery.

Sliding my hands down Joey's back, I tense as he pushes into my body. His face shifts to one of pleasure until he drops back into the juncture between my neck and shoulder, kissing. Normally this act isn't boring and I can keep up with every movement on Joey's part. Sometimes even I initiate the sex, riding him hard and fast. Today this is just another chore to my list of things to do. I think it's my birthday; it's the only thing I can think for why Joey's up before dawn. He did this last year; of course, I'd been more into it, thinking it was a strange morning. Now, after two years of having to wake him up, I know that something is up. "You're not into this…" Warm breath brushes against my ear causing me to shiver. Twisting away from him, I curl into a ball as he slips out of me. "Aiden…"

I whisper back, "It's my birthday, isn't it?"

Joey's voice is partially perky as he kisses the side of my neck, pushing my lengthened hair over my shoulder, "Mm. Eighteen. You're such an adult now Aiden, no longer forbidden fruit." His tongue presses against my jugular. Groaning, I lace our fingers. Bringing his hands to my lips, I kiss his fingers but I don't bring them down to my cock like I would have any other night. "What's wrong?" Joey leans forward, his arm coming up to flick on a lamp.

There's actual concern on his face. He actually wants to know what's wrong with me. He's curious as to why I'm not in the mood. I've been difficult about having sex before but never enough that I've never gotten into the mood. "Tell me about yourself." Joey frowned, rolling over himself. Our backs pressed up against one another. Coiling my fingers around my pillow, I chewed on my bottom lip. "I used to have these dreams about being in the major league. I had a world record for home runs and would later become a coach. I got married to this Italian supermodel – I didn't understand her but she made beautiful children between us: two boys and a girl." Just hearing my old dreams made my voice waiver. That feels like a pipedream now.

"So you're not happy with me?" His voice is stern, bordering on anger. He's preparing to start yelling thus starting a bad morning.

"No, I love you and I'm happy with you." I brush my fingers through his cut blonde hair, wondering if the coarseness of it is from one of his parents. "Please, I just want to talk to you right now. I love you and I want to know more about you."

"What do you want to know about me?"

"What did you dream about when you were a kid?" I use that word carefully. He mentioned that I was now an adult; maybe I can play off telling him my old dreams as reflecting on my childhood, pointing him out as being my adulthood. "Is this your childhood home, Joey?"

Turning to face me, Joey wraps his arms around my center, his chin leaning against my forehead. "Yeah. It was my dad's home. Mom died when I was born and he raised me here. I was the baby of the family, ten years younger than my brother. Dad didn't like to look at me but he made sure I had all my needs meet. He paid for me to get my accounting degree and got me connections to a powerful firm needing someone to balance the books." His voice seems raw at that point. "He died two months after we got together. I found out through our family lawyer that he left the house to me as well as a substantial portion of his assets. It won't bring him back but it helps me re-establish myself with my beautiful lover up here."

"Do you have clients online?"

"You don't know much about my work do you?" I shake my head no. "I'm an accountant still but I do most of my work over the phone. It supports us. Do you want my financial situation?""

Giggling, I shake my head in his chest. "No." I'm feeling a little better now that Joey's no longer turned on or mad. Instead, he's being playful, something that rarely shows. "What about your dreams. Didn't you ever dream of children?" I hear a hopeful tone in my voice but I don't know why it's there. Maybe I'm praying that he'll get bored of me once he realizes I can't produce the children that surely he'll want eventually.

"I have my nieces; they're more than enough for me. You really wanted kids, didn't you?"

"It's something my mom instilled in me – she really wanted grandchildren." I add that last part to explain why someone as young as me would even be thinking about another generation. I'm not a girl, it's not part of what society expects for me to want. "But I think it's something I've always wanted one day. I know, it's strange but I really do want a baby eventually but I can live without that if it means I can have you."

Joey goes quiet, his breath heavy against my scalp.

"I'm going to go start breakfast." I wiggle from his arms, slowly climbing out of the bed. "Is there anything in particular you want?"

"It's your birthday, make whatever you want."

Chewing on my lip, I finally push the proposition I've always meant to, "But it's our anniversary. You should have a say in all this too."

Perking up, Joey pushes himself to a crouch, the blankets piling around his waist. "Make something light."

Toast hardly seems worth getting out of bed so early but if I stayed lying in that bed any longer, I know that I'll be forced into something I'm not ready for today. "Are you sure? Lunch isn't for several more hours."

"We'll get something in town." Joey nods. "We'll go into town later to celebrate our anniversary and your birthday. Eighteen is a big day." Joey smiles. I can't smile back, trying to wrap my mind around what he's saying. He wants to go somewhere. With me. He wants  _me_ to go somewhere.

I haven't left this house in two years except to put laundry on the line out back.

After what felt like forever, I voice my confusion. Joey's fingers brush across my cheek, trailing loving touches down the nape of my neck where my lengthened hair dresses. "Yes, we're going to eat out. I want to show everything how lucky I am to have you." The morning shadow on his face twitches with a chuckle from his dry lips. "To think, our anniversary."

I offer a half-smile, unable to really grin excitedly at that. I just didn't want to think of it as another birthday that I'm not able to go out and enjoy the milestones I waited forever to do. Now I have to think about it in terms of how long we've been here, together. Smart move, Aiden. "I'm going to go start breakfast, then." I quickly change the subject. Pecking his chin stubble, I pull myself out of bed, ignoring the feeling of  _him_  seeping down my thigh. I ignore it because Joey says he likes to see my ass after he's fucked it, loves knowing that it's  _his_ cum sliding down my leg. I make plans to take a shower after breakfast – if I'm going out I want to be presentable. Well that and Joey doesn't like any masculine features on me, including hair on the legs, stomach, chest, penis, or arms.

My hygiene is similar to that of a female's because he wants it that way.

Making toast and coffee, I slowly set the table while watching the blue skies out the window. I'm eighteen. I'm an adult. I should have graduated high school two months ago. I should be on my way to college, probably on a baseball scholarship. Instead, I'm standing here with no high school degree and no aspiration.

Setting Joey's coffee on the table near some jam and butter, I pour myself a cup of water, sitting it in my place and wait for Joey to come out so I could eat.

I want to call down the hall to see where Joey plans to take me. I want to suggest my old favorite restaurant, to tell him that I like fish but I chew my lip. Maybe I can ask Joey to take me out shopping, even if it's just for groceries. I want to beg to get books, to continue my education inside this house when I don't have chores. Overall, I just want to get out of the house for several hours.

Joey sits at the table, grabbing his coffee immediately. I sip at my water, simply watching him eat as I always did. I've spent many mornings trying to find a reason to smile in the morning. I've finally narrowed it down to his eyes. While the rest of his features are losing the fight with age, his eyes seem to still have a youthful appearance to them. I could get lost in them. I only lose myself for a minute before I realize Joey's talking to me, pointing towards the remaining piece of toast on the platter. I take it cautiously, nibbling on the corners.

"Sometime's still wrong, isn't it?" Joey leans in, brushing a long strand of hair from my face. I shiver at the touch, the creepy crawling feeling in my gut that makes it turn and coil and my throat lock up. Leaning into his open palm, I stared directly into his eyes.

"I like your eyes." Lies on my part aren't easy so I always diffuse the situation. I don't want him to know that I'm actually scared. Of what, I haven't figured out yet. Maybe this is all a ploy? Take me out in public and see how I react around other people. He wants to test how much freedom he can give me before I try to break loose, he's done it before. My biggest worry is that he's finally grown bored with me.

A pleasant smile appears on his face. Leaning in, he pecks my lips so lovingly I almost think he means good to me. "Clean up and take a shower, I'll get you some clothes."

I do as he asked. It wasn't until I was in the shower; carefully shaving around my penis did I stop and wonder why he's being so nice to me. He's even going so far to get me dressed. Leaning my head against the ceramic tile, I lose myself in my own thoughts. I wanted so badly, for years, to leave this house. My dreams have been haunted with the question of what's going on beyond the tree line surrounding this little home. I finally have my opportunity, to tell the world that I don't belong here—

Why am I starting to hyperventilate?

I should be ecstatic. I should be pushing on Joey's shoulders, encouraging him to move faster so I can return to the life of freedom. I shouldn't be second guessing his intentions. I shouldn't want to throw myself at the ground and beg him to let me stay, to make a grand meal for him – no, for us! I won't have to take the drive to a town I've never been to see people who wouldn't know me, in a world that doesn't think I exist. I just want to stay here, where the world stays at a standstill. I want to be here, where two years haven't gone by but simply the matter of days spiraling into madness.

I don't want to admit that the world continued without me, unabated.

"Aiden, hurry up. We want to eat rush hour traffic." Joey raps his knuckles across the wooden door before stepping into the shower. He's a hazy fog past the curtains, staring at me with uncertainty. I know he can see the tears, past all the water. He knows that I'm scared, confused and lost. "Sh. Come here, out of that shower." He takes me into his arms and I don't struggle against him as I once would have. "You'll feel all better once we get on the road."

He doesn't understand it! I don't want to leave! Grabbing his shirt, I stare into his eyes, hoping he will see the fear in my eyes. "Please, don't make me go! I'll make dinner here – anything! I, I'll do that thing you like," his eyes sparkle with the thought that I would rim him, "I'll do anything, let's just stay here tonight." I don't want to go.

"Aiden…" A large hand dropped onto my wet head. "I'm not going to fight you on this, get dressed. Today's a break for you."

"Please, no…" I cling to him, feeling my breathing labor again. I might just die; I can't take air in fast enough. Joey stands up, pushing away from me. Left alone on the cold bathroom floor, I start to cry. Too scared to leave the house, what a fool I've become. I know that Joey's set in thinking that bringing me outside one day, for our anniversary, will make everything all better. He hears none of my fears in his world where everything he does makes me happy. "Joey-!" I sob, hoping he will hear me from somewhere within the house.

Nothing, not even his concerned voice. Usually when I call his name he comes, even if he's outside tending to his truck. He'll drop anything and everything to deal with my discomfort. Grabbing my legs, I curl up and try to fight away the sobs. When I look up again, Joey's in the door, holding a plastic sack from a whole-sale company. Clothes, I realize.

"It's just pants and a shirt, but I thought you'd still look pretty in them." He whispers, bringing the bag forward. Collecting the items, I look over the lengthy khaki pants and blue shirt that was sizes smaller than I would normally wear. Drawing the clothes close, I breathe in their smell. They don't smell like Joey. I've worn his clothes time and time again, finding comfort in the scent of sandalwood and soap. These smell like plastic bag, bought from a store and left to rot in the backseat of a car. "Try them on…for me?"

Nodding, I stand up, letting him see that I've shaven as he likes. Slipping on the soft tee-shirt, I have to stretch to get the top over my broad shoulders. Once it is its fits snuggly around my stomach. The pants come on next and, like the shirt, they fit snuggly because they're a size smaller than I am. Joey's attention is captured by me though. He always says he has eyes for no one else, even when I'm feeling low and self-conscious. He wants to see my body all day, wanted to see the curve of my frame.

He wanted the world to see how lucky he is.

I give him a small turn, purposely pushing out my ass. "It's not indecent?" I ask him in a soft, childish voice. Maybe I can get him so turned on he'll forget about us ever leaving. "I only want you looking at me." If I play on his possessiveness just right, maybe he'll take me to our room.

Joey licks his lips. "You look…beautiful." He steps closer, his large arms wrapping around my middle. His lips fall upon the nape of my neck and I tilt my head to the side, offering myself to him. "Get your hair combed," the hot air against my shoulder makes me shiver in delight, "and we'll go."

I can't look at him when he walks away. I fight the urge to call him names. A tantrum will only get me locked in a trunk in our basement and I don't want to experience that, not right now. Grabbing my hair brush I glide it through my hair, yanking the knots out roughly until I feel I look decent enough for public. From the office, I can hear Joey leaving a message on his personal line informing all that would call in that he would be out for the day. He really wants to leave…with me.

Pressing against the door of his office, I wait patiently for Joey to notice me. He does with a pleasant smile, one which I return nervously.

"Let's go. It's an hour's drive into town and I have a few places I need to stop at. And, Aiden?" I look up at him, unaware that I had no longer been paying attention until he said my name. "This is your day, you just point to the store and I will take you there."

Chewing my bottom lip, I try to find my voice. "R-rules…?"

"Huh?" Joey looks up from his work, stuffing those documents into mailing envelopes. "Aiden, you don't have any rules. You're free to do whatever you want. I'm not a monster." No, no he's not. He can't be saying these things to me now…I can't handle them. I need those rules. Tell me I can't make eye contact with people or I can't speak for anything. Let me know what you're expecting from me before that truck door slams, locking me in another cage. "And stop eating yourself, for God's sake!" I jump when Joey walks past me, harshly slapping my upper arm. I stop nibbling on my bottom lip in favor of touching my reddened arm. "Start some laundry before we go too. Don't stand there all love struck, you know better than this!" Joey's attention focuses on our still unmade bed. Pouting, I make my way to the bedroom, keeping my eyes away from him. "We started our day so well, why do you have to make things so difficult?"

It's a rhetorical question. The last time I tried answering one of those questions, he hit me so hard. I now let him go, trying to busy myself with a few chores. Joey's right: what am I thinking? The bed's unmade, breakfast is still on the table, and I should have a load of laundry already prepped to go by now. Maybe if I take forever, we won't go anywhere.

That means little, however, as Joey is set on taking me into town. I just want to eat fast and climb back in his truck. The trip to the city is an hour's long drive and when we get there it feels like forever for us to get through a series of lights until Joey pulls into a packaging store. His eyes bore into me, as if trying to decide if he wants me to stay in the locked car on that hot day or if he wants me to go in with him, chancing me talking to someone.

I focus my eyes on the little store next to it, a dollar store that has trinkets lining its display shelves. The place doesn't look busy and I like that. I could sit comfortably out in this car, left to my own devices as I've had done for months.

"Stay here." Joey finally decides. I nod, still watching the store.

I could run. He could walk in that shop and I can make a run for it. Where would I go though? Would I tell the cops? I snort lowly. What could they do? I'm not a child anymore and I'm certainly not a girl. I could have fought back or made a run for it many times since moving out here. Or worst – no one would believe me. How is this an abduction when I'm walking around so freely? I'm not skin and bones (anymore) and I'm very well taken care of – spoiled, in fact.

Joey bends over backwards to make me happy, I should feel honored.

 _But he's hit you_ , the little voice piques in the back of my head. I chew on my lips, even though I know Joey hates it. My arm still burns from his slap earlier but I don't categorize it as abuse. My dad used to slap me on the back of the head when I spat or cursed. Mom used to spank me when I was disobedient. My friends have punched me when I said stupid things. How is what Joey's done any different?

 _You never slept with any of those people_.

Joey's not just anyone, I reason. He's my boyfriend. Or husband. I don't know what he is but he's someone special and I know that abuse can happen in a relationship but Joey doesn't hit me for any old reason. I deserve it when he hits me. He would never purposely cause me any pain. He loves me too—

The driver's seat door slams shut and Joey keys the ignition, his eyes on me. I look over him and offer a small, nervous smile. "What's wrong, Aiden?" Joey slumps in his seat.

"Can we go in that store?" I point to the mostly deserted store. It's a small step to calm my nerves. "I just want to look around, for my birthday…"

Joey's eyes soften, opening the door again to step out. Reassured by this, I join him by getting out of the car, rushing around the front of his big truck to grab his hand, tucking myself firmly into his side.

The store wasn't exciting; it had non-name brand items for dollar prices. I didn't look at the prices as I shifted through the items, just looking around. An elderly woman looks over at Joey and me, notices our hands still clasped together, and glares. I pause. No one's ever glared at me like that. Is it because of us? Our relationship? She hates it because I'm a boy and Joey's a boy and we're not supposed to be together…

My breathing is picked up as I drag Joey to the back of the store where cheap tee-shirts line up along the racks. Leaning against the back rack where cheap books were, I lowered my head. I really want to go home now. No one scorns me at home for being who I am. Joey can't protect me out here like he can in there. Pushing the books around, I pulled one out. Sewing for Beginners, a children's book. I hold the book up to Joey.

The man takes the book, shifting through the pages with a thoughtful glance. "You can learn to mend clothes." He pierces his lips, imagining another reason not to have to go into town. I nod quickly. "Then you'll need the basic sewing material…" Joey paused. "We'll have to go to another store for that."

I can tell he's nervous, it's probably more crowded and he's not sure how I'll react. I move to a different rack, looking at the notebooks and children's flash cards. I move on, not finding anything that interests me and not wanting to push my luck with writing. I don't want to fight with him out here, not about paper. Grabbing his arm again, I let Joey lead me to check out, purchasing the book for me as I watched my environment.

The town outside isn't some desolate place in the middle of nowhere but it's not as busy as my own home city. Its shops are closely located, surrounded by an array of tree and an air of "small town". Everyone probably knows each other, they move here to retire. Considering where Joey's home is, there's probably a lot of traveling to be down out of this close town area.

Together we continue along store to store, the world none the wiser of my plight. They don't know that I just turned eighteen.

They're unaware that as they focused only on the fact that a gay couple was publicly showing affection, Joey was winning by rewriting my existence in this world.


	7. The Family

Jeffery Montgomery, Joey's brother, was notorious for showing up without notice at any hour of the day. A gastrointestinal surgeon, he worked out in the city and drove out to this very town during his off hours to be with his family. When he didn't feel up to seeing them, he always stopped by to visit his dearest brother at their family home.

One cold winter morning, he showed up late one evening with his wife and two daughters in toll, making his way through our home as if he owned it. He wasn't a bastard, per se. I don't know what he's like in normal circumstances but apparently he's a loveable guy with a lot of personality. He is full of jokes and loves to tell them to Joey. The problem I have with the man and his family is that they're full of questions and can't keep things well enough alone.

He's not condescending of my existence. He just likes to ask a lot of questions like what high school I graduated from and if my parents forgiven me for my 'affectional orientation'. I usually change the subject but the family is unrelenting with their questions. I like to reassure them that I really do love Joey – his ups and his downs. Like yesterday, I wanted to vacuum under the couch but couldn't move the bulky furniture. All I had to do was ask Joey to move it and he did without argument. Or at night, when we're both in bed lured to sleep after a night of steamy passion, his nose wiggles like a bunny. I like those moments with him.

I had some warning that they were coming, at least by the surprise number of groceries that came that hadn't been on my list. I'm guessing it's a holiday. Christmas? Without comment, I followed Joey's instructions on what to make and when. I had thought it would just be the two of us, like it is every year, but then the Montgomery's showed up in their nice outfits.

Sarah, Jeffery's wife, is a high maintenance woman. She was the kind of person my own mother would have hated. Although she had a job, a nurse at the same hospital her husband worked at, she had come from money and felt privileged. She had fleeting hobbies, including picking on me. It's accusing to say but I always felt she zeroed in on my abilities, informing me that the kitchen wasn't where I should be and I should be  _with my parents_. I'm sure she means well but I don't want to think of anything beyond this house.

Their oldest daughter is my age. Susan is the kind of girl I would have looked at from affair back before I met Joey. She had pretty blonde hair and the prettiest eyes I've ever seen. Once a cheerleader, she was tall and skinny and should have been on the cover of playboy. If I weren't happily in a relationship she would have been the kind of girl I would have swooned over, masturbating at night, and felt guilty about being around during the day. In normal circumstances, I doubt she would have ever passed a glance at gangly me but when she visited she was always left with me to talk to.

The youngest was only ten and was a blessing in Joey's eye. I bet that she, little Maggie, was the only reason Joey even let his family in the house. Just like her sister she promised to be a beauty when she reached of age but at the moment she was the sweetest being in creation and I loved to spoil her when she was around. She didn't ask me meaningless questions. I just existed, therefore I was good enough.

They came in that day with Christmas presents for the girls and a couple for Joey and me. It made me feel bad that we didn't have a tree up or anything for them. I apologized about this inconvenience repeatedly as I took their coats, hanging them up in the closet leading to the back rooms. Sarah smiled sweetly, telling me it was Joey's job to remember to get his family gifts, not mine. It was enough that I had cooked a whole dinner for them.

Taking that as acceptable, I lead them to the living space where Joey already was, the game on and looking indifferent about the whole experience. "Would you like any coffee or water? We even have some juice, Miss Maggie." I smiled at the little girl.

"Juice, please."

"She'll need to drink it in the kitchen. And some coffee, please." Sarah nodded. I went about my chores, feeling uncomfortable in my kitchen than in the whirlwind of a living room. Let the adults talk, I figured. Besides, Joey didn't like it when I watched the television and I was content without it on. Besides, with their hushed whispers and back glances towards me, I doubt I was wanted to interfere.

Delivering coffees and juices, I smiled towards Joey. "Dinner will be done in a few minutes."

"Thank you, Aiden."

"I'll help him set the table." Susan pushed herself from a chair, walking only a few feet to the table splitting the kitchen and living room. I pointed awkwardly to the cabinet that had the plates, unsure where we were going to put everyone. The kitchen table never looked so small…

Susan walked around the table, putting plates in the appropriate spots. "Did you ever go to college, Aiden?" Her blue eyes stared into my soul. I stirred gravy quietly. "Before you moved in with Uncle Joey to take care of him."

"I moved in with Joey because I love him." I hummed softly. "And no, I never went to college." Haven't even finished high school, I want to tell her but the words don't want to leave my lips. It's like a weakness to admit that this girl was further ahead than me simply by going to college. I could have, I bet. Doing what, I don't know, but I'm almost certain that if I was at school one more year I could have had a few scholarships lined up.

But that's all ancient history, I'm happy being here. No worries, no stress. Time's at a standstill beyond those doors. I shouldn't worry about what could have been or should have been, I should remember that Joey needs me. Unless he's been lying to me for years, he says I make him happy.

"I love it," Susan moved around the kitchen with grace. I watched her skeptically from the corner of my eye. This was my kitchen. It was the only place in the house that Joey had no control and I didn't like it when anyone went through my cupboards. Worst, she may come across the letters that I've been writing secretly. "I would have stayed up for Christmas but dad said I had to come and visit. At least you're here – I get so tired of not having someone to talk to."

I've never really spoken to her much. She's forbidden territory, a seductress with sharp teeth, eager to pull me into a web of lies. I'll keep o my humble self here at the stove, wondering if I should make something sweet for dessert. None for me, of course. Joey says that I'll rot my teeth out if I have anything with too much sugar in it, but for ever one else. There aren't many deserts in the house so I end up making sugar cookies, a recipe that I've encountered in one of the many recipe books Joey has bought me.

"You don't say much, do you Aiden?" Susan sits at the table, her head against her folded hands. "That's okay, I like boys who listen."

My face darkens in hue when she says that. She's always saying things like that: how much she likes boys that cook, listen, clean, and just keep to themselves. She once touched my leg under the table, the first time we meet. Joey didn't believe when I told him so I just started keeping these things to myself, watching her carefully, mindful of my own urges that shouldn't exist. She may have been pretty and a female but she wasn't Joey.

Maggie rushed in the room, grabbing my arm. "Can I have the batter, uncle Aiden?"

"When I'm done." I moved through the kitchen, setting up trays to start arranging the cookies.

"Maggie," Joey's voice raises through the house that even I jump. He's been so quiet today. "Why don't you go out to my car, in the back cab there is presents."

"You did remember!" Maggie squealed, rushing out the door. He did? When did he find time to go Christmas shopping and why didn't I know anything about it? I chewed on my lip nervously as I scrapped the bottom of the bowl to grab the last glob of batter. Cookies made, I set them aside and cleaned out the bowl just as little Maggie came stumbling in with an arm full of presents. She carried each one to her uncle, looking excited. "When can we open them?" She asked.

"After dinner is made and cleaned up, like always." Joey shook his head. I watch them from the kitchen. Even Susan has excitedly gone into the living area to look over the wrapped boxes, to figure out which one was for her. She shook the small box, most likely containing jewelry, with excitement. "How much longer Aiden?"

"The turkey's done." I pulled it out of the oven and set it on the counter. "Um, could you cut it for me?"

Joey smiles and steps into the kitchen, his lips brushing over mine as he went. "I got you something as well."

I blush. "But I didn't get anything for you." I feel my cheeks darken at a thought that just crossed my head, "but if you want, I can make tonight extra special."

Joey grinned. "I'd like that."

As Joey shaved the turkey, I set the table. Joey's family talked in hush tones in the living room and Joey kept his hush tones to me. Just ignore them, he repeated. Ignore their questions, their stares, and their concern. Each one just wanted to break our relationship; they couldn't live with us being happy – with him being happy. His brother had always been like that and Joey was tired of it and, in turn, I was too.

Folding my hands to my front, I brushed imaginary lint from my khaki pants. "Dinners ready." I didn't make eye contact. The family nodded, approaching our small table to find a seat. It was a cramped situation, me between Joey and Jeffery as food was passed around. Susan talked mainly about her school while Sarah bragged about little Maggie's accomplishments as well s her own on the nursing staff at the hospital. She then moved on to how her husband's was doing and how developed he was in his field.

Jeffery kept giving me careful looks over his own dinner, asking me questions about where I came from, if I'd called my parents to wish them a Merry Christmas, and if I was going to be living with Joey in the upcoming year. I didn't answer any of the questions, opting to ask him about his field, pretending to be interested in his work while Joey interjected with his own work and how many portfolios he was handling and for whom.

It made me feel small to listen to all of them doing such great things. All I could admit to having done this year is learning the basics of sewing. I hemmed some of Joey's shirts and put a nice design (his name) on a shirt I found in the closet. I also learned that dish soap and dish detergent were very different and had yet to receive permission to use our dish washer again. I also was proud to say the pink napkins were using that Susan thought were so "cute" were simply an error on my part for not noticing the red shirt in the wash.

Who am I kidding? I can't do anything great. I am doomed to live in this kitchen and die in this kitchen. I would accomplish any great task while I with Joey.

And yet I'm comfortable with that.

"Doesn't it get lonely out here?" Susan asked over her green beans.

I blink in surprise, knowing the question is directed towards me. It does get lonely with just Joey but… "We're talking about getting a dog." I smile, Joey grumbled. I've been talking about having a dog; Joey's been talking about putting a leash on me and calling me a dog. "But I'm not lonely. Are you?" I give Joey my best glare, telling him not to play around. He always says that all he needs is me.

Joey's arm wraps around me. "Never." He grins, burrowing into his chest. Jeffery looks pale, giving a look to his wife.

From the end of the table, Maggie pushes her now empty plate (did she inhale her food?) away. "Can I open my presents now?" She asked.

Her sister added more turkey on both of their plates. "Not until everyone is done eating." I'm eager myself to see what Joey has purchased me. He's never kept anything a secret, wrapped up in the corner of the room. I keep my attention focused away from the present that calls my name, begging me to see its contents. Joey's hand grasps mine under the table and we eat quietly, listening to the family's talk about their plans for the upcoming year.

Presents were open in a wave of excitement by the girls and in slow motion by the men. I sat in the furthest corner, just watching and wondering what my parents are doing today. We have early Mass on Christmas and then dinner with families. Presents are simply a passing thought before bed, urged on by children eager to see what Santa may have left them earlier that morning. What are they doing now without me? I'm the only child so there's no point on having such an extravagant present opening as it would be with all my cousins.

"We got something for you, Aiden." Sarah holds out a square shaped present. I take it shyly, bringing the present to my lap. Joey raises a brow at me, waiting for the present to be open. I slip the paper off, letting the gift fall into my hand. A stationary set. "You can write your parents with that." Sarah smiles, closing her hands on mine.

Susan smiles from her seat. "Or you can write to me about anything. I mean  _anything_." She stresses the word so hard that it's grating. Putting the stationary on the table, I thank them with a forced smile but I know already that Joey will put that in the trash once they leave. I don't need the temptation to contact my parents much less Joey's family.

Joey reaches over, handing me the gift from him. It's a smaller box that I have to carefully open. Inside is a ring – a silver band with a pretty diamond in the center. I know what it is just by seeing the outline. "Joey…" I whisper.

"The hell—Joseph!" Jeffery stands up, grabbing his brother's arm. "Think about this clearly—he's still a kid and—"

"I've had plenty of time to think about it. We can't formalize it but I want everyone to know that Aiden's mine." Jeffery slid the ring on my finger. It feels so strange. I focus on my ring finger, unaware of the heated verbal battle between Jeffery and Joey. Only little Maggie comes forward, taking my hand and asking if I was going to marry her Uncle Joey. I nod in excitement, even though I know this little ring ties it all together.

"Get out then!" Joey shouts. "If you can't accept who I'm with, I don't want you here!"

I jump when Joey pushes me back to our room. The door shuts firmly behind me and I hear his and Jeffery's yelling. My hands tighten around my ears as I climb into bed, not even wanting to know why they're so mad that Joey proposed to me. We've been together since I was sixteen, it was only a matter of time that Joey would do this. I giggle happily, looking at the ring. It's actually a very nice item. I always thought I would have to go out and get the ring for the girl but this is just as nice to know that Joey really does want to spend forever with me.

Our bedroom door opens slowly and Joey leans against the doorframe. "I'm sorry about that."

"Did they go home?" I roll on my side, hands to my chest. I should get up to clean the dinner dishes and so many pans needs to soak. Joey nods, rubbing his hand over his eyes. "Guess what?" I giggle.

"What?" Joey sounds so exhausted; maybe I can make him feel better.

"I'm Aiden Montgomery."

Joey smiles. "Yeah, you are."

"Can I do dishes in the morning?" I ask, crawling to my knees. Joey smiles, stepping closer. He lets me wrap my arms around his neck, our lips brushing against each other. I want to thank him so much. My tongue brushes along his lips, tasting tonight's dinner. He gives me entrance and I plunge in. He moans in delight, his hands rolling under my shirt, raising it over my head until it's discarded on the floor.

Pulling him and myself back onto the bed, I let him crash on my smaller form. He's breathing, once quick, has slowed down as his anger at his family is replaced with lust for me. His stiff form slackens against my frame. My own hands, dangled in his hair, lower to his bottom, digging into his pocket to pull him close. Our mouths part and I pant in excitement. The blood has rushed to my groin. I reposition myself under Joey, our pelvises brushing.

Joey slides his hands down my hips, pushing the thigh khaki's down my thighs. His lips brush against my cheek, down my neck, against my collar. Teeth graze over my nipples as he continues his trek south. I'm withering in delight with his touches, holding the blankets under as I watch through half-lidded eyes. From between my legs, Joey is watching me, his mouth close to my dick. The tip of my erection is already an angry purple head, the slit leaking pre.

Golden eyes stare into my own and I know that Joey's giving me warning. It's not enough. As his mouth encloses around my hot penis, my world goes dark. My grip tightens around our bedding as every nerve screams. Mouth agape, I pant out his name. I can't think about anything anymore. An eye cracks open as a finger presses into my opening. The entire digit feels so weird even though I'm used to this. He hasn't prepared me in so long; my body just gobbles him when we're making love.

"Geh!" My back arches as hot pleasure flares up my spine. Around my penis, Joey chuckles and repeats his thrust into my ass. I squirm around his mouth with a mix of wanting to pull back and slam up. I don't know what I want anymore. The pleasure feels so good, I want more but it's becoming almost unbearable. "Joey! Ah!" My hips slam up, my cock swallowed into his warm throat as I come. "Ah…hah…" It's feels like a flood is washing through my body. My toes are curled into the blankets until I feel myself fall from that happy place.

Dropping onto our bed, I roll my fingers down my chest and belly, making my way into Joey's hair as he cleans the leftover mess. He looks up at me and smiles. "Kiss me…" I ask.

It's not something I usually do. I hate it when he kisses me after he goes down on me. I'll kiss him after swallowing his seed but I won't do the same if it's my taste in his mouth.

Until now.

Joey waste no time, afraid I'll change my mind. He thinks it's the hottest thing if we taste ourselves. His mouth taste of coffee, turkey, and cinnamon mixed with bitter salt of my fresh release. My nose crinkles at the taste. Joey is unaware of my regret about this open-mouth kiss; too busy sucking on my tongue. My fingers lace through his hair, ready to pull him away but Joey is so far gone in his own excitement, it doesn't connect. His shirt comes off and I finally pull away to take in his body.

"Aiden…" Joey breaths. I run my finger through his chest hair, making my way to his chin. I kiss him again. The taste isn't so bad this time.

"Fuck me." I whisper. He growls lowly, not from rage but from excitement. Outside this room, these moments, I can't curse but in bed the dirtier my mouth the harder he gets. He hopes off the bed, pulling the jeans from his tight frame. He tosses them towards the clothes basket in the corner and I can hear them hit the floor instead. I raise my leg in the air, spreading each one as far apart as possible. Reaching under my legs, I hold my butt cheeks open to show him my eager hole.

Joey lowers himself upon me; I can feel his hand guiding his swollen cock into me. I grunt under him, feeling stretched to full capacity. He's so hard. "Why don't they want me to be with you?" He whispers into my ear. I wrap my arms around his waist.

"They don't understand what we have." I tell him.

Joey's eyes darken. His hips move, his erection leaves me and I feel empty. When he slides back home, I scream to the ceiling at the sudden pleasure that builds in my stomach. His aims are exact against that bundle of nerves and I am clinging to his back. His powerful thrusts are pushing me back into the bed, away from him, and I have to fight this friction. My legs wrap around his waist, keeping our waist connected.

The feel of my ring finger against his neck, his lips against my neck, makes this all perfect. I wither under him, scratching his back as I call to the high heavens. A fleeting thought crosses my mind as my stomach coils. His Christmas present. I still need to give him something for chasing his family out and this ring.

I flood my thoughts with the most unattractive things, willing off my powerful erection. The need to orgasm goes away just as Joey fills me with his hot essence. He slumps against my neck, freezing in shock. He pulls back to look at my hard-on and I can tell his anger is rising.

"Not you…" I pant harshly. "All for you." I wiggle my hips, my hands on his chest. "Get on your back."

Joey slides out of me, rolling on his back. I climb over his hips, reaching under me to grab his soften penis. My touch alone causes it to stiffen some, enough to help me guide it inside again. I shiver at the feeling of warm seed seeping out and along his penis, lubricating it. My hands fall to his stomach, using it as my only prop as I begin to slide on the spire. My knees ache some but I quickly pick up the pace, raising myself up until I can feel the tip along the ring of muscles at my entrance. I squeeze the shaft before dropping back down.

A mew escapes me.

"Mm. Aiden." Joey's head falls back.

I start to move so fast I'm bouncing on him. The bed squeaks under our weight but it's barely making a connection in my own mind. All I can hear is his groans, my name across his lips. I whisper his name back. My mouth is so dry.

"J, Joey. Ah…" I stiffen, falling forward. I couldn't fight the urge to cum this time and it's so powerful my frame is shaking. Joey hisses and I know that my ass is also spasm around him. It's too much, too good. Will power alone forces me back up, sitting on his softened penis. I reach up my chest, swirling my fingers through the cooling substance on my belly. I bring a wet finger to my lips, gliding the nail over my chap lips. Joey's watching with wide eyes. I lick the mess, ignoring the twist of my belly at the taste of myself. "I'm still hungry…"

"Dinner's on the table."

I feel myself blush that my suggestion was ignored. "Not that mouth." I wiggle my hips. Joey's eyes darken. We've never done it so many times in a row, I can tell with the lowering of his brow he's trying to decide if he has the ability to make it a third time. I don't give him time to decide and start moving my hips again, my head falling back.

Hours later, I pull off of Joey's sleeping form, sliding out of the bed. I can't sleep. I should be tired after the night we've had but I just feel uncomfortable. Stepping into the front rooms, I start doing dishes, trying to distract myself. It takes an hour to get the dishes washed and put away, living room straightened, and chairs returned to the basement. Not tired, I let my gaze fall on the little clock above my stove. Four in the morning.

I start heading back towards my bedroom but my eyes fall on Joey's office, the door cracked open. I look back towards Joey's prone form, snoring into his pillow. He turned over since I left, sleeping on his stomach with his arms around my pillow. I look back at his office and making a daring decision to walk into his forbidden territory.

Since moving out here I've only been in his office a handful of times. Joey doesn't like me stepping in past the threshold because that's where the computer and phones are. The phone is the item I want. Each step I take sounds loud to my ears as I move towards the phone. I pick the item off the cradle, pressing it to my ear as I listen for Joey. He's still asleep.

Nimble fingers move across the buttons, typing in the number I memorized by heart. It starts ringing.

To my ears it sounds loud. Joey could probably hear it but he just keeps snoring in the back room. After the fourth ring someone on the other end picks up, but it's not my mother. It's a woman, a tired sounding woman. "What?" The sleep laced voice asks.

"C, can I speak with Paul or Melody Redford?" I croak. Oh please let this just be a joke. Why didn't my mom or dad answer the phone?

"You have the wrong number," The woman grunts. "Never heard of 'em."

"No, this is my house. Please, I…"

"This is my number. Been for the last year." The woman growls. "Now, I'm hanging up. Call someone else to bail you out of jail or whatever." A dial tone follows and I'm left staring at the phone at hand. Did my parent's move? Why is our number different? I put the phone back on its cradle and leave the room, firmly shutting the door behind me. As I climb into bed, I lay on my back, staring up at the ceiling.

I jump out of my skin when a hand pushes against my chest. Although there isn't any light, I know that Joey's glaring at me. His breathing is heavy. "I had to pee," I whisper.

"In my office?" Joey growls.

"Your door was open so I closed it and…"

Joey's open hand slams into my cheek. I gasp, reaching for my flaming cheek. It's the wrong move as Joey grabs my arm, yanking it up.

Something cracks. It's too much strain. I knew that noise. Oh God! The pain! I scream but he doesn't release his hold on my now broken arm. I start to kick at him, trying to get him to back up but all that does is infuriate him. He hits me again. And again...

I can't feel my face, I know I'm crying but I can't feel it. Joey finally lets me go and I drop onto the bed, curling up to hold my broken arm. Joey is over me, his breathing still shallow. "I'm sorry…" I sob.

"Don't you ever lie to me," Joey growls. "Now who did you call?"

"They weren't there…" I cry, "They moved. They left me."

Joey's breathing doesn't calm down. "You called your parents!" He screams. I shake in fear. Breaking my arm means nothing now. I'm sure he'll kill me now for that one deed. There's no explaining it, even if I didn't want to go back to them Joey will still think I'm not happy here. "I thought we were happy! You're just playing around with me!"

"No! I love you!"

Joey grabs my broken arm, pulling me from the bed. The house never felt as big as ever as he drags me down to the basement. I hate the basement; it's as bad as the box. I don't get free reign of the basement, rather there's a small hideaway under the stairs where he locks me. I can move around but it's dark and there are cobwebs.

It's all too much. Just hours ago everything was perfect and then I went and ruined it all. The pain in my broken arm has me screaming as I'm dragged down the stairs and pushed into the crawl space. I land on my broken arm causing me to scream. The crawl space has a wooden door that was installed years before we moved here, originally to hide storage under the stairs. Joey has fixed it up so he can lock it with a padlock.

And he does, sealing me inside the crawl space. The only time I see him again that night is when he comes down to realign and splint my broken arm. It's then I know that we've returned to the training stage.


	8. The Episode

I'm laid out on the couch, just watching the world through the bay windows. Namely, I've been watching the dirt road leading to our home as it becomes a mud hole from the constant rain. It's very fitting for how I feel. I should move, go around the house and clean, but I'm just not feeling up to it. I haven't felt like doing much for months now.

Since practically being dragged out from the crawlspace weeks after being forced in there, I've spent my day laying here staring out the window while holding my right arm. It's something I've developed doing ever since I learned that Joey hadn't set it properly that day. The arm is swollen and its ability to grasp items has diminished a lot. I look at my fingers, trying to wiggle them. They move, but stiffly. This is my punishment, I tell myself again. I was too greedy that night.

Joey blames himself for this. He says that if he hadn't lost his temper (but I make him so mad sometimes) he would never have broken my arm. I tell him it's not his fault because it's mine. I knew better. I am happy here, I know I am but hearing all that talk about contacting my parents had made me long to hear their voices. Instead of closing that door I fell into temptation and had to learn my lesson.

And I have learned.

I'd rather be in the crawlspace where I can't upset Joey anymore but even that seems to irritate him. Smile, he tells me at night while kissing my neck and shoulders. I offer him a small, forced one, but I just can't find happiness anymore.

My dreams, the only thing that Joey doesn't own, consisted of me being that Hall of Famer in baseball. I was a great pitcher in school and I knew I could get a scholarship or two for my throws. Now, even if I did go back to Colorado I couldn't be a baseball player. My dominant arm can't grasp a ball, it certainly can't throw one. Now like it used to, anyway.

I curl into a ball on the couch, listening to the dripping of rain against the ceiling followed by the ticking of a clock. It's so loud. Has it always been that painful to hear, counting down the seconds of my meaningless existence?

The telephone rings throughout the house and I ignore it as always. Joey's soft voice echoes from his office. Closing my eyes, I lure myself into a dreamless sleep for the nth time that day, waking when Joey sets a bowl of soup and a tray in front of the couch. I gaze up to the clock. Have I really slept so long? I don't sit up, looking at the tiny stars floating in the soup.

"Please eat, Aiden." Joey whispers, brushing his fingers through my tangled hair.

"I'm not hungry." I turn to my other side, away from the salty smell of chicken broth. I hear the tray move and I know Joey's kneeling next to me. Something goes through my hair, pulling a knot out. Joey quietly comes through my hair, only telling me once to sit up so he can get the rest. He then props me in his lap, letting me lay back against his chest. My focus returns to the rain outside.

A spoon presses against my lips, the smell filling my nose. I crinkle my face but don't find it. No, I can't fight it. I haven't had the energy to do anything for months now. I don't know what's wrong with me anymore. Warm broth slips into my dry mouth, slipping down my throat.

My stomach jumps awake, excited for something to eat. When was the last time I ate anyway? Although it smells delicious, it tastes like sandpaper against my tongue. I'm not good enough to eat this. With my left hand, I push Joey and the spoon away, slumping to the other end of the couch, legs sprawled on Joey's lap. He rubs my ankles and we fall into a relaxed silence, not even jerking when the television turns on.

"Jeff called." Joey comments during a commercial.

"Mm." I mentally trace designs in the carpets. I want to tell Joey how I really feel about his brother, especially the blame I place in his family. It's their fault our relationship is so strained. If they would just mind their own business Joey and I could be happy again in our own little world. I've reached the conclusion that I don't want Jeffery or his wife or his kids in my house. Everything outside this house just needs to go away.

"Just wanted to see how we were doing, invite us over. Susan is on the Dean's List and he did something in surgery I didn't understand." The news comes back on. Joey falls quiet again as he always does as he listens to the current events. I used to be too busy to sit and watch any programs. Until last Christmas, I couldn't remember the last time I actually sat and watched what was on the air. Since coming out of the crawlspace, I've inattentively watched the news more than ever. Especially when Joey comes out – this is our time.

I don't actually watch, per se. Sometimes my eyes are drawn to some event going on in the nearby city or the weather but I usually just stare out the window while their words lace around me.

_"…Still missing. This will be the second week that volunteers have searched the neighboring areas looking for her. If you have any information, please contact the metro—"_

"She's dead." Joey scrapes my food bowl clean, draining the remaining liquid. He sounds so sure but I don't voice this. "I mean, when someone goes missing they usually end up dead in the first forty-eight hours." He sets the bowl aside, reaches to the tray and pops open a beer. Is that true, I wonder. If so, then shouldn't I be dead? Or did he change his mind within those forty-eight hours?

I want to tell him to turn the news off. I don't want to hear about some abducted girl that the whole world is stopping their lives to help. I want to hear about a litter of kittens saved from the street or the weather. The weather would be nice, maybe I feel better if the sun came out?

Joey flips the channel to sports. The game catches my attention for a second.

Something slips between my toes. Wiggling them, I yank my foot from Joey's lap, my attention falling on him. He smirks, slipping his finger between the appendages again. I kick him before I realize what I've done. Eyes wide, I try to push myself up, to make a run to my crawlspace where it will be safe but Joey grabs me first, his arms wrapping around my thinning waist. His breath is heavy against my ear.

"Why won't you smile?"

I twist my head to the side, looking directly into his eyes. "I smile."

"Don't lie to me, Aiden."

I look away. I want to argue him that I do smile but I can't remember the last time I did. Was it that Christmas night when he married me in the living room before his disapproving family? Bringing my hand to my chest, I curl feel the ring past the loose clothing I had dressed myself in that morning. "I'm tired," I whisper, slipping from his arms again. Joey lets me, just watching me curl up on the couch.

The sound of the game plays on my ears, luring me to another deep sleep that I didn't need.

I wake up the next morning to the sound of a car driving on gravel. Cracking open my eyes, I find myself pulled completely awake to see Joey's truck leaving the quiet house. Moving to the window, I touch the glass in a desperate attempt to reach Joey, to tell him to come back.

He gave up on me. He's leaving, going to find someone who will listen and love him. Someone that can take care of him rather than need taking care of.

Crying, I slip to the floor and curl into a ball. It's because I won't smile that he left. What's wrong with me?

Making my way to the back hallway, I close the door to his office absently before going to take a shower. Being upset is no excuse to slack on my hygiene regimen, not when I could try to make myself more presentable for Joey. Stopping at the mirror, I take myself in. Who is that staring back at me? Long dark hair that's knotted and sticking up. There are bags under my eyes, even though I have been sleeping. My face is sunken in again from a self-appointed starvation. I look old.

I don't look like myself, whoever that is. Maybe that's why Joey's so upset? I step out of the bathroom, going into his office. At first I'm scared to, afraid that Joey's really in there, watching to see what I'll do if he's not around. I ignore his electronics, taking the scissors from his holder. I nearly ran out the door, returning to the bathroom to look at my image in the mirror.

Sliding my fingers through the knots, I yank them out. I work through each strand until my hairs flat around my head before grabbing the scissors. Maybe he doesn't like that I've become because I've changed so much. I don't even like myself anymore.

_Snip. Snip. Snip._

I watch my face in the mirror, watching the hair fall down my shoulders in patches. It wasn't even but I didn't care. I was on a mission, watching as the nape of my neck began to show for the first time in a year or two. Putting the scissors down, I reached for the hair brush and finished combing through my shortened hair. Much better, I decided, making my way to the shower.

Cleaned up, I returned to the couch and climbed under my blanket, tired again from my busy morning. I don't actually sleep, instead opting to watch the clouds move across the property, disappearing behind trees. They're so low, meaning it will probably rain at some point today. I wonder if we'll flood. It doesn't look like the ground can take any more water. Since moving out here I've had some awful weather that makes me wonder how anyone can live out here.

I don't know how long I've sat there, just watching. Joey's truck pulled back in eventually and my eyes were drawn to it, watching as the vehicle disappears into the garage. I should run to greet Joey, I know I should but I can't find the energy to climb off the couch. Besides, I'm starting to grow nervous about what he'll think when he sees my hair. Will he hurt me? Did I bring myself more punishment?

Looking up, I jump when I see Joey, bent over next to me. "What did you do to your hair, Aiden?" He asks, face scrunched up.

"I wanted to look like when you were in love with me." The words sound so dead, even to my ears.

"But I still love you." Joey whispered. He runs his fingers through my hair, now shortened to a more boyish look. I probably look ugly, he won't—"Even like this." He kisses my temple. "I bought you some things, Aiden."

I twist around. "Why?"

"Because I love you," he says, as if that explained everything. "Come on, stand up. I want you to look at everything. I know why you're depressed – it's your arm isn't it? Nothing can make up for breaking your arm, especially like that." His forehead brushed mine and I found myself lost in his eyes. "Do you remember when we first met?"

Of course. Me, chained to a radiator, cursing him and fighting to go home. How could I ever forget? I shake my head anyway, encouraging him to continue.

"I went to that school as a guest speaker for an accounting class for an old colleague of mine. I was coming out to my truck and some students were practicing on the field. I remember the ball coming out and slamming into the fence and I remember you stepped over and smiled at me before returning to your friends. I fell in love with your smile and can't stand to see you depressed any longer. Why won't you smile anymore – please, tell me."

What hurts more is I don't know what's wrong? I could name out a lot of things, including that I don't think he loves me. I feel so enclosed and little with no control over my world. In all my stay that has never happened, there were always my dreams that Joey couldn't touch and now those are gone too. How am I supposed to survive in the world with one perfectly functioning arm? Why couldn't he just take me to the hospital that night instead of  _fixing_ it himself?

These problems just seem to spiral into my head, one after another piling up into a feeling of remorse. It all linked back to me. Joey did love me until I called home. He wouldn't have broken my arm that night and I would have still had my grand dreams.

Pulling the blanket up, I cover my head again. "I don't want to talk anymore."

"Aiden! Get up!" He's pulling me now.

I collapse off the couch and am slid across the floor towards the kitchen. Oh God. He's going to – "No! Don't put me down there! I'm sorry! Please!" I grab the table leg, trying to fight from being put back in that crawlspace. I don't want any more training. I don't want to be chained up and starved, left alone from the world and reminded that no one cares where I am. I just want to stay up here where I can see each passing day. "I'm smiling! See!"

"I'm not putting you back there!" Joey hisses. "I bought you things!" He grabs me by the arm pits, lifting me into his arms to take out to the garage. I'm hyperventilating now, too scared to reason why I'm freaking out like this. Joey has told me continuously that he loves me, why don't I believe it why—

A dog looks at me from the truck window. It's a golden retriever puppy and it's watching me with something similar to excitement. It yips, bounds from one seat to the next.

"This is my fault. You were telling me you were lonely and I wouldn't listen. That's why you wanted a dog, wasn't it?" He opens the door and the puppy falls out onto the cement floor, making its way to my feet while crying.

Bending down, I pet under its chin before glancing under it. A boy. I sit back up and try to figure this out. Joey's been so adamant about us not having a dog, why did he change his mind so fast?

Is it because I'm so upset?

Joey reaches into the bed of the truck, pulling out several bags containing food, dog toys, leashes, and a dog bed. "He's yours."

For the first time in a while, I smile. Joey's trying to make this all better. "Do I get to name him?" I ask. Joey nods and I find myself daunted with this little task – this little control. I could name him anything – Axel or Max. Or I could be a smart ass and name him something close to my heart but…I don't want Joey so mad so soon. "Max." Joey releases a heavy breath, as if he was expecting the same name Aiden had wanted to use.

"I also bought you some other things." Joey reaches into the bed of the truck but I'm already leaving the garage, returning to my couch with the puppy. Having the puppy only raises my spirit a little as I curl on the couch, watching Joey move items into the living room. A book shelf, several books, notebooks, and pencils. I watch him carefully, trying to decide if I should be worried.

He puts one of the books in my hands. It's an algebra book. I shift through the pages, raising a brow at the information. "So you can do something when you're bored." He piles them on a coffee table, inline of my vision. Max jumps out of my arms, moving around the books in curiosity. Joey doesn't say anything else, just goes out to his car and brings me in a McDonald's bag since he wasn't here to make me something to eat. He then disappears in the back study with my bookshelf to set it up.

Climbing on the floor, I pick one of the books out of the selection, expecting the worse. Science fiction stares back at me with vibrant colors. I set that book aside, going through all the educational materials as well as notebooks to do the work in. I chew the inside of my cheek, trying to figure out what Joey's trying to do. I put the pages aside moving to another stack, flipping through the pages until my lower back starts to hurt.

Getting to my feet, I start bringing each item back to the office door, leaving them within the threshold. On my third trip, I find Joey standing in the door waiting patiently. My body shifts, the weight of the books firmly held up by my left arm, my right arm slung over to hold them up. Joey presses his chest against me, his arms wrapping around me firmly. It's like he's trying to keep me from running. Why is he so scared I'm going to leave? There's nowhere else that would want something as broken as me.

"Did you eat?"

I forgot about it. I walk out to the living room, opening the bag of cold food. A few fries and two bites of the burger were enough to make me feel sick. Joey watches me carefully as he move through the kitchen , putting things out to burn at a later date. I just watch him from the floor, petting Max's fur. Shaking his head, Joey finishes off my meal.

"I want to get better." I tell him softly. "I don't know why I've been so upset recently but I want to be like I used to so I cut my hair so I would look like when you first fell in love with me…in front of the school." I never heard that story, to be honest. Before his apartment, I never saw him. He was probably another face in the crowd to me but I won't deny that he probably did meet me at the school baseball field. Maybe if I looked like I did back then, he would love me again.

"I never fell out of love with you, Aiden." Joey reaches over, taking my hand. Max darts off to explore the house. "You don't have to change to make me fall back  _in_ love with you."

"But you got so mad and locked me up and… you ignored me again. I…I didn't start to really love you until we came out here and you took care of me and watched me and loved me and then you just stopped and…" The words leave me in such a high pitch whine that Joey jumps back. I'm crying again, my fingers at my lips trying to cover the sobs. I freeze when Joey's arms wrap around me again. His soft noises are so reassuring, calming me some.

"Everything is going to be better from now on." His voice is so soft, like a lullaby. I'm still so tired, I could sleep forever. "I swear, I'll never hurt you again." He has me settled in his arms like a child, albeit awkwardly. I'm comfortable though, surrounded by his aftershave. Breathing into his chest, I grip his shirt, trying to stay as close as possible. "I love my little Aiden more than life itself and will do anything to keep you with me."

Nodding, I take a deep breath. I feel calmer now. Lighter than ever, really. Joey carries me to our bedroom, settling me in the bed. I first worry he wants to have sex, especially since I'd have to tell him I'm not in the mood (I haven't been since that night) but he just settles me under her blanket. I forgot how comfortable our bed was, I haven't been in here since I was ripped from it.

Wrapping my fingers around the blankets fabric, I listen to Joey, settled near my head. His fingers are going through my hair, his smile pleasant.

One of my hands snakes out from under the blanket, lacing with Joey's fingers to keep him from leaving me. I'm still upset and don't think I should be left alone. "I missed up my hair." I finally tell him.

Joey lowers his chin against his chest, trying to hide his laugh. "Yeah, but it's still cute on you." He runs his own freehand through my hair, causing me to shiver. He slides his nose next through my hair, breathing in deep. "If you'd like, we can go into town tomorrow and you can get a proper haircut there."

"Can we go to that restaurant we went that one time?"

"Anything you want."

"And can I have a new outfit?"

This causes Joey to giggle and in turn, I let out a small laugh. That's enough for Joey to attack me with playful tickles, his fingers sliding along my bony sides just under my ribs. Pulling away, I squeal as he comes after me, climbing on the bed to climb on top of me. Joey wins fast, trapping my arms above my head. He looks so much younger when he smiles, I love that.

"I love it when you smile."

Lowering my gaze, I slide my hands out from under him, bringing them to his chin. It's scratchy against the palms of my hand, making me realize how much his hygiene has disappeared in my depression. I know the house isn't clean and in turn he isn't and I feel that's a point against me. I should be taking care of my family as much as Joey takes care of me. "I'm sorry for being a pain recently."

Joey just shakes his head. "Its okay, Aiden. I deserve it. Just promise me you won't ever leave me."

"I won't." I take Joey's hand again as I climb under the bed. "Don't leave me."

"I have to finish my work."

"Please…"

Joey sighs, climbing on his side of the bed, never releasing my own hand. "Just until you go to sleep."

The rain pours above us but I don't care. I offer Joey the smallest of smile as I send a quiet prayer to the God I've all but forgotten since my innocent days, asking for the energy to return my life to the way it was, together in bliss with my Joey.


	9. The Test

The turtleneck sweater I put on this morning is tight and uncomfortable but it covers everything I want hidden from the rest of the world. Tugging the hemline of the sweater, I watch the road go past us, the once green trees starting to lose their luster in favor of bright reds and orange. Fall is beautiful out here. It's not too hot or too cold, it rains just right and the sun is usually hidden by overcast. I wish Colorado could be like this instead of really hot or really cold.

We're going on a date. It's not uncommon for us to head into town together at least three times a year but this is a new occasion that Joey brought up over dinner the night before. The carnival was going on and he wanted to have fun with me. He's wanted a lot of innocent fun lately and I'm happily to oblige because it means we both have a good time and neither of us feel uncomfortable.

Our sex life has been different since that Christmas almost two years ago. We've kissed passionately and our fingers have moved suggestively to places better left unsaid but I've been apprehensive about having sex with him. Instead, Joey's offered himself on the table, wanting _me_ to do him until I feel the courage to let him do me again. It's been helping a lot, especially to see him so open like that, almost as if he's smaller than me.

If tonight goes good, I want to offer myself to him but that's my secret.

So far it's been good. Joey and I had a fair evening doing our daily work until we decided to leave with only a light supper of soup and sandwiches. Joey promised me all I can eat at the carnival – as long as I don't indulge myself too much. "Are you sure they have pretzels? Soft ones, none of those cracker ones. And dipping cheese." I lick my lips at the thought. I haven't eaten something like that in years.

Joey laughs. "For the hundredth time, Aiden – yes, they have your pretzels." He turns the wheel into a bowling alley parking lot a few lots from the carnival site. From the truck I can see all the rides in the night sky, laminating fun and joy all around. I feel like a little boy on his birthday. I think this is the happiest I felt in years. Joey opens his wallet, shuffling through several bills before pulling out a single twenty. He hands the green paper to me and I take it nervously. I haven't had money in so long… "This is your night. I have cash but let's try not to overindulge."

"I won't!" I push open the car and jump out. My shoes hit the rocks hard but I don't take off towards the fun. Instead, I wait for Joey to come around, his arm wrapping around my waist, leading us to the fairgrounds. So many families are around us and it makes my heart beat rapidly but it's not enough to stop me in my tracks. This is just me and Joey, another test. Maybe this is the final? He gave me money and wants to see if I'll make a run for it.

We pay our way into the grounds and I lace my fingers with Joey's, pointing excitedly to the first booth I see. "Ring toss! Can we play?"

Joey smiles before moving to the man and handing over several bills in exchange for colorful rings. I take half of the proffered ringers, moving to the throwing line. With my left arm, I toss the first. It bounces off the bottles and I make a small noise of disappointment (Joey doesn't like it when I cuss) and toss another. It misses too and I drop my head. Joey steps forward and give a try himself, doing better than I did. Enough for a small prize at least.

He gives me the trinket, a little keychain with a puppy that looks like Max. Attaching it to my trousers, I lace my fingers with Joey's again and lead him further into the carnival. Game to game we moved through the ranks, laughing and having a good time. Joey even found me a pretzel, which I shared with him – except for the cheese. That was mine.

Joey didn't play that game; instead he kept climbing around me to dip his pieces of pretzel in my little container of cheese. Squealing, I pushed back on him, trying to climb away and eat the rest of my treat. Joey slurped on his soda after, watching the families move around us.

"Can I have a sip?" I lean forward, my lips parted. Joey tilted his drink towards me. I see a honey eye watch me as I lick the straw first before bringing it in my lips. Playfully, I give a deep inhale. Sugar and caffeine hit my tongue with a splash and I shiver. I forgot what this tasted like. I switch back to my water. Joey shakes his head before returning to his own drink.

"We should go out more often." I whisper, looking at the heavens above. I love these skies; you can't see stars in the city. "I like spending time with you." I reached over, tucking my hand into his. He'd been so busy lately and he knows that I get lonely, even with Max. Kicking my feet out, I stretched towards my toes. Joey chuckled, pressing his nose into my hair and breathing deep.

"We should." He admitted.

Leaning over, I grabbed his straw again, taking another gulp of Joey's soda. Mm, that is really good. Joey ran his fingers through my hair and I smiled, letting him have his drink back. "Can I go get a soda?"

"Remember, don't indulge too much. I'm not going to stay up with you if you get sick." Joey slurps his own drink. "Get me another one too." I nod, darting back through the crowds. It wasn't until halfway there that I slowed down, realizing that Joey had let me go without him. The soda vender was nowhere near where we sat down to eat, he couldn't see me. I looked around, barely seeing his form.

You can do this, Aiden! Just go grab the sodas and come back.

Digging the twenty from my back pocket, I moved to the vender, waiting in the long line for the food. It felt like forever until I had two large Pepsi cups at hand. Pushing through the crowds, I made my way back to the bench Joey was at. Crowds of families kept pushing back some and I thought I'd suffocate by the time I reached Joey's bench.

Only to find he wasn't there. Looking around, I felt panic rise through my blood. Dear God, he was testing me. I can't handle this! I looked around, the sodas falling from my loose grip. I start towards the brightly colored bumper cars, looking at the full lines for a familiar man but come up with nothing; I turn and make my way back towards the soda vendor. Maybe he realized he was letting me off on my own and came searching for me?

I find that a dead end too. The crowds were finally dispersing, going to various other parts of the carnival and I realized I really was alone. I don't want to be here, why is Joey doing this to me?

Taking a deep breath, I remind myself that I'm an adult. Wrapping my arms around myself, I start moving on. He has to be around somewhere, he wouldn't have just left me here.

Although my pace is slow at first, it picks up quickly as I move from stand to stand, looking for his familiar blond hair. Its short cut with gray salted through it, giving it more of a white color. The laugh lines around his eyes and the wide smile he always has when I'm in the same room with him. He needs to still be here, I don't have anywhere else to go. I check the portable toilets, the games, and finally I return to the bench, sitting on the cold wood.

I'm alone. Joey left me.

What do I do now? Maybe I should go wait by the truck, Joey will find me there. That is, of course, if he didn't leave me here altogether. Have I done something wrong recently? Nothing comes to mind but I wouldn't put it past me to have messed up somewhere. Maybe it's because I asked for the soda? I normally wouldn't be allowed such a treat but I wanted to enjoy this night.

Bending forward, I wrapped my arms behind my head, hiding my face from all else before I started crying. Joey wouldn't like it if I drew attention to myself and I don't want more eyes on me than necessary. I sob into my lap, body shaking as I begin to break down. I hope it won't last. The whispers around me, the people, everyone is staring at me, I just know it. Where is Joey? Why did he leave me? Why didn't he just stay seated here, I wasn't gone more than a few minutes.

"Aiden?" A soft voice asks.

I jump, twisting my body in the direction it came. Susan is standing with a tall man, their fingers laced. Was she on a date too? Before I know what I'm doing, I'm in her arms, breaking her hold on her boyfriend. "I lost Joey!" I cry out.

"I'm sure my uncle is somewhere, Aiden. Calm down." Her fingers slide through my hair, parting it. I don't release her though; I'm scared if I let her go everything will disappear. "He probably had to go the bathroom; he's not as young as he used to be."

"I checked! He wasn't there!" I'm crying again. "Please, you have to help me find him!"

Susan nods, taking my hands when I step back. "Eric, this is my uncle's boyfriend, Aiden. Aiden, this is my boyfriend, Eric." She waves her freehand during the introduction. I eye the man cautiously, him doing the same with me. "Where was the last place you saw my uncle, anyway?" The girl looked around expectantly.

"Here! He sent me to get sodas and he just disappeared." I'm crying again. Susan puts a comforting hand on my shoulder as we start to move forward, back through the rows of game stands that Joey and I have already explored since arriving. My hand never leaves the girl's supportive one. At least I know she won't hold my strange behavior over my head. She knows how attached I am to her uncle, even if she did flirt with me so forwardly back then. She won't now, not in front of her boyfriend. "What if he got lost? Or he's sick?"

Susan smiles, shaking her head. "You're overreacting, Aiden, calm down some. Joey's probably looking for you." She finally let's go of my hand. I let her, moving forward to look through the small paths between rows, hoping to spot Joey in the distance.

"So your uncle's gay?" Eric asks. Susan makes a small noise of confirmation. "Is he, uh…retarded?" I know that question was directed towards me but I don't say anything. Cupping my hands to my mouth to get my voice to spread out, I yell out Joey's name. Nothing.

"You know I hate that word." Susan growls.

"You know what I mean – is he slow? Ow! Fuck! Stop hitting me!"

Turning, I watch Susan as she slams her purse into her boyfriend. "He's not! Can't you be more sensitive to his problems! You bastard!" She hits him again and I smirk as he shields his head. "Let's go, Aiden!" She grabs my hand, pulling me into a large tent claimed to be the house of mirrors. Why are we here? "It's a maze, he won't find us here." She moves us through with practiced ease, only tensing once when Eric called her name. "I'm sorry about that, Aiden. He's a bit of a jerk, I was planning on dumping him sooner but he's the most popular boy in school, you know?" She sighed. "If he weren't such a bastard…"

"I'm sorry?" I offer her. She shakes her head in an 'it's not your fault' fashion. "I'm not…y'know, I'm just really scared. I don't like being outside without Joey he…I need him."

Susan nods in understanding as we start down another path of the maze of mirrors. "Aiden, can I ask you something?"

"Sure." I grab the little dog keychain, giving it a playful tug as we move through another set of mirrors. Hah! Look how chubby I look in that image! I jump away from Susan, moving between three mirrors, looking at all the strange reflections directed towards me.

"Do you have agoraphobia? Is that why you're so scared without my Uncle Joey?" She moves back towards me, staying near my elbow. "Ever since we meet I never hear of you outside his home. Are you afraid of being in open spaces or crowded spaces?"

I feel a brow rise. Was she trying to diagnose me? I honestly do feel bad for lying but if that explains everything without incriminating Joey I can live with being a crazy psycho too afraid to leave the house. "Y, yeah."

Susan smiles. "I knew it wasn't something strange like dad thinks. Don't worry though; I'll keep it a secret if you want."

"N, no, you can tell people. What does…Mr. Jeffery thinks it is?" I'm actually rather curious what Joey's family thinks is going on. I've heard from Joey that they think I'm after his money but maybe I can get some of the fire off me and they'll leave us alone. Even though I don't like his family all that much, maybe if we get all this sorted out then Joey can start talking freely with the family he loves again.

"It's strange, really." Susan tucks her hands together. "I don't know much about what's going on myself but some of it's coming to light the older I get. The more I hear really. Dad's thinks Joey is doing something illegal with you. At first he thought you were some prostitute that Uncle Joey picked up off the street and dressed nicely, at least that was until he meet you. He said a lot of things didn't add up and he wanted to know more. He's being going on for the last five years that he thinks Uncle Joey is forcing you to live with him." She licks her dry lips, her back facing me.

I grab the little stuffed dog on my belt loop. "Why would he think that?" Why do I sound so nervous? I want to be here. The front door to our house is always unlocked; if I didn't want to be here I could have left a long time ago.

"I don't know. Dad just never trusted Uncle Joey. He's always described him a little weird and blames it on grandpa. He says Uncle Joey needs to be watched, that he makes dangerous mistakes." She started walking again. "But I don't think Uncle Joey would do anything bad, not as bad as they think at least. You really did come here because of your parents, didn't you?"

"Threw me out." I repeated the same story Joey had told me. "I told them I was gay and they locked the door. I found out they moved awhile back. Didn't want anything to do with me." I feel my eyes watering, my breathing shallow. Maybe that's why my parents really did move – they found out what I was doing with Joey and didn't approve. Why can't they love me for who I really am?

"I understand that and tried telling dad that but he said you were always at home, why didn't Joey ever let you go anywhere. I couldn't answer that until now."

"I go outside with Joey. I need him with me or I start to panic."

She nods in understanding. "That's why I found you hyperventilating on that bench." The girl takes my hand. "Aiden, let's just go find Joey. I'll explain everything to dad and try to get him to leave you and Uncle Joey alone. Is that okay?"

Nodding, I start to move a little faster. With all that time we wasted, Joey probably thinks I'm long gone. He's going to be so mad if I do find him. "Stay with me…until we find Joey." I look at the girl carefully. "I thought you were flirting with me." I admit.

"Flirting?" She breaks into laughter. "Your cute, Aiden, but you're not my type! Too, oh I don't know – baseball-y. I like the football not the baseball. The muscle, not the leg. No, I was asked by dad to get information from you he thought since we were so close in age that you might be willing to tell me what was going on. I guess I came off too strong." She rubbed the back of her head. "I felt silly the entire time. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

"No, you didn't make me uncomfortable." I couldn't help but feel a little disheartened that she wasn't flirting with me. It had been a notch in my belt when I thought such a hot girl like Susan was flirting with me but knowing that she hadn't been interested because I looked like I played the sport I (used to) love hurts. "It just came off as flirting and I wanted to remind you I am with Joey." I watched her from the corner of my eye before giving her a small smile. "At least we understand each other now."

"Can you consider me your best friend?"

"The one and only." I admitted, continuing down the aisle. Something green caught my eye, a flash of shirt through the crowds. Joey was wearing a green shirt. I stepped forward, ready to make a run towards that figure.

"Aiden, what's your last name anyway?"

I smile. "You know it's Montgomery now."

"No, I mean legally."

That's right, Joey and my 'marriage' isn't legal. I could claim until I was blue in the face that my last name was Montgomery but it wouldn't be true no matter how wishful my thinking was. Would saying my last name really make all that much difference? "Redford." It feels so strange coming from my lips. "Aiden Redford."

She smiles. "That's a pretty name."

"I suppose." I glance over the crowds again. That green! Now it's coming towards us, revealing Joey from the masses. He looks out of breath and I know he's been looking for me. "Joey!" I throw myself at him, pressing my nose against his chest.

"Uncle Joey! Aiden was looking for you!" Susan crosses her arms behind me but I don't care, I'm too busy breathing in Joey's scent and relaxing. He didn't leave me… I was just over reacting.

The man exhales heavily. "I saw one of my clients that I've been trying to contact for months and chased him down. When I came back I couldn't find Aiden anywhere. Thank God you found him before someone else did. Look at me Aiden," Joey tilts my head back, expecting me of tall-tale signs of assault. I don't release my grip on his shirt, finally calmed down by the scent of his aftershave. "Where all did you go?"

"I looked around and came back to the bench and waited until Susan found me."

"Thanks again, Sue. Do you have a ride home?" The girl nods, fixing her purse over her shoulder. "Do you need me to trail behind you on your way home? I don't want someone attacking you."

"Uncle Joey, no one's going to follow me home."

"You never know, there're lots of creepy people out there."

"And you're the worse." Susan smiles. Joey gives her a hug before sending her off. Alone with Joey, I find nervousness creeping into my heart.

"I really went looking for you." I whispered. "I thought you left me." I reached into my back pocket, pulling out the last of my money, handing the change back to Joey. "I dropped our drinks, I'm sorry." Joey exhales deeply, shoving his money in his wallet. "Can we leave? I had more than enough excitement for one day."

"We haven't been in the mirror maze." Joey groans like a child. Feeling that everything is better, I take his hand and lead him back around the maze I just came from. The man in charge of the attraction gives me a look but it's ignored as I lead Joey through the nearly deserted attraction.

It's getting late and a lot of the families are leaving as the unexciting amusement of mirrors isn't attracting the crowds. I don't mind, leading Joey around what I thought was the correct path. I end up slamming into an image of myself. Stepping back, I realize my mistake. I know I'm blushing, my face feels hot. "I thought this was the path Susan and I took." I whisper.

"Susan goes to this attraction every year and they never change it. She knows it like the back of her hand." Joey takes my hand, leading us deeper into the maze. We end up stumbling onto another series of dead ends. Joey rubs his chin. "What did she ask you?" He finally asks, seating himself on the ground. Is he trying to get his bearings? Shouldn't we continue and try to get out of here so we can go home like everyone else?

"She wanted to know what disorders I had." I sat next to Joey. In the distance, I heard the laughter of couples coming through the maze. Their voices grew off in the distance as they found the exit easier than we were. "To understand why I don't go anywhere with you. She understands now that I need you so I don't have panic attacks from my agoraphobia." It seemed strange at first to build up on the lies that Joey's spent years fortifying but now they are coming so easy. Sometimes I think they are real. I do start to have panic attacks when I'm outside the house or in crowds. I don't like going anywhere unless Joey's with me so maybe I have developed that disorder and Joey's the only thing keeping me in check? Maybe I've never lied at all.

Joey's lips press together in thought. After awhile, he nods. "Yea, I'm helping you. I don't want you having any attacks or getting sick. Anything else?" I shake my head know. Joey sighs, dropping his head back to stare at the tall, cotton tent sealing us in this funny house of mirrors.

It's so quiet now, how many people are still here? I take a deep breath, my hand falling on Joey's thigh. I notice that the man stiffens under my hold but it only encourages me. He's calmed down but I know he's still a little angry with my disappearance. I only hope I can calm him down some more. I move my hand to his crotch, rubbing the palm of my hand along the bulge and to the metal of his zipper.

"Aiden, what are you doing?"

My heart beat becomes erratic as I choose to ignore that question. I unbutton his pants and pull his zipper down. My knees dig into the dirt as I crotch around his thighs and to his lap, focusing all my attention to getting him out of his pants and his underwear. I slip his hardened shaft out from his underwear slit, the warm flesh slackened in my hand. He hardens some but it's rare that I have to turn him on.

"Aiden, not here." He's reaching for my hands but I slap him away. My other hand wraps around the base of his flaccid penis, propping it up. Leaning forward, I took the head of his shaft in my mouth. The immediate taste of salty skin sent a shiver down my spine but I ignored it. Instead, I was too busy listening to another group enter the house of mirrors, the laughter of people, the blood in my ears, the sharpened breathing of my lover.

I swallow him. It's something I've spent months working on, taking him without choking. It still feels weird still but I'm growing used to this. My lips work as a seal, my teeth only grazing over sensitive flesh, tongue dancing along the vein. I pull up, licking and sucking on the head, brushing the slit with the tip of tongue before taking him all in my mouth again. Up and down I fuck him with my mouth, my hands moving to his hips to hold them down.

Pre-ejaculation hits my tongue with a salty tang. Pulling back, I release him with a noisy pop. Saliva links my mouth to his penis until it breaks, leaving a wet line down my chin. Sitting up, I slip out of my shoes. My pants slip down to my ankles before joingin the growing pile in the corner. "I want them all to hear," I whisper. People are on the other side of the tall mirrors, they can hear us I know it.

"What's gotten into you Aiden?" Joey breathes. I climb into his lap, reaching under my body to grab his penis. I don't know why I'm doing this anymore. I just wanted to get him off at first but now I have something to prove. I want to be caught, I want them to know that I'm a part of this relationship.

I want Jeffery to know that Joey's not keeping me here. I'm here because I want to be with my husband. The mushroom head of his penis pushes past the tight ring of muscles and I make a small noise of pain. I forgot how much this hurts. Wrapping my arms around Joey's neck, I use him as support as I lower my hips carefully. The burn rises up my backside but it feels delicious at the same time.

Fully seated on him, I wait until the burn wears off before I begin to bounce. My knees pop a few times but I can't seem to care. All I want to do is make sure I'm breathing properly. I feel like the air has been pushed out of my lungs. I shift the angle of his thrust, finally finding that bundle of nerves that makes me see stars. The voices around us, the people in the maze – let them see this. Let them know how much I enjoy my time with my husband. Let them catch us and spread word back to Jeffery.

It's a flurry of movements: my hips a blur, my lips on his neck, my fingers running through his hair. God… "I, I missed this! Ah! Fuck!" Joey twists his head, our mouths slamming together in an awkward kiss that was all teeth. My fingers trail down his shirt as I push myself back, letting him watch me move to focusing on my body. I tweak my covered nipples, moaning softly at the feeling that moves to my cock.

"Y, you want to get caught." Joey's voice is thick with lust. He's breathing so heavy that I can feel it against my skin. He takes my wrist, tearing them away from my nipples. "Then I'll make them come investigate. I'll let them see you being a little whore." I'm pushed to the ground with that, my legs up. He pushes in deep, eliciting a cry of excitement from me. My back is angled painfully, my shoulders digging into the ground. He's pounding into me with a new resolve.

"Ah! Ah! Oh! Harder!" I grab his shoulders, my nails digging into his shirt. I hear a tear but I don't care that he's going to yell at me or that I'll have to repair it. He bends down, his teeth connecting with my nipple through my turtleneck. "Joey!" I can't take it anymore. I'm going to come…

Joey grabs my hips, his attention beyond me. I crack my eyes open to see the guy who was at the front entrance staring in disgust. "Get lost!" He hisses.

The kid runs off.

My mouth falls open. I'm starting to regret this, I feel so embarrassed. What if he gets the cops? We disturbed some children with our antics. "Joey! Uh! Stop!"

He wraps his hand around my swollen penis, pumping it. Fuck! I spill into his hand but I know he's nowhere near complete. He's so turned on with being caught; he wants more people to see him doing me. His hands slid up my shirt, pushing it to my nose. Now he's touching my open nipples. Teeth graze over them, tugging them almost painfully. I hear someone coming, directly towards us. We're going to get arrested…

"Joey…" I whisper. "Please…"

If we get arrested he'll be in such a bad mood. This was all my fault, I should have waited like he told me.

"Ah!" He groans, spilling in me. He drops, panting heavily. Sliding him out of me, I fixed my pants and shirt before helping Joey back into his pants. He doesn't move, trying to catch his breath. The kid Joey yelled at comes back, an older gentleman with him. The older man grabs me first pushing me towards the boy, causing Joey to jump up with I cry out in pain.

"Get out of here you fags! Out!" The older man pushes on Joey, leading us out of the maze. Stepping into the cold fall air, I grab hold of Joey, who's been yelling at both men about touching me and them – in turn – yelling at him about public indecency. Someone ask if the cops need to be called but Joey is pulling me out of the carnival, to his truck.

Climbing in my seat, I tighten the belt around me, staring off in the distance. Joey doesn't start the engine, his hand tapping on the wheel.

"I had fun." I whisper. "Except for getting caught."

"I did too." Joey licked his lips. "Can I have an encore at home?"

Grinning, I reach for his hand, lacing our fingers together. If it means he's not upset with someone else seeing my bits then I can live with that.


	10. The Run

My legs slid from Joey's hips, slumping to the bed just after my powerful orgasm. Toes curling, I bit my bottom lip, some pain moving up my spine as Joey continued pumping into me. His orgasms were always harder to reach than mine and it was only a matter of time before he—

I cried out when he turned my body over, working on my ass while I grabbed a pillow for dear life. He could always get two quick orgasms from me while he fought to get the first and only. He's slowed down a lot since we first met. His once a day orgasm becoming maybe every few days but he loved to make sure I still thought him sexy. I would stand, naked in his office while he encouraged me to harden. I would come to his hand, begging for him to take me but he wouldn't. Never the time, wait until tonight.

It's not erectile dysfunction. He can get it up, but he needs the energy, the encouragement.

Pillow clamped between my teeth, I see stars. He's now pressing hard into that spot and my penis is stiffening along the sheets. "J, Joey!" I try crawling out from under him but he follows me, still deep inside. On my knees, grabbing the bed board, I can tell he now has better angle, he's not as deep but he's able to touch that spot accurately. Each thrust has me withering in delight, waiting to come again. The angry red head is pointed towards the wall, writing along the cold paint. This contrast of cold and hot sends shivers down my spine. I grab the bed post. I won't last long.

Joey's hand slaps my hip. "Stop biting your lip!"

I do. The cries I was trying to stifle come out. His name leaves my lips with our Lord's with such blasphemy. May no one see me now, looking thoroughly tamed like a little slut. Joey slaps my hip again and I jerk. What did I do wrong? He groans, mentioning how tight I get when he slaps me. He does so again, this time on my butt. I try to pull back. He might enjoy the feel in my ass but all I can feel is the sharp, burning sting left in its wake.

"Ah…hah…" I lean my arms against the cold wall, enjoying the coolness. It causes my painful erection to flag for a second before returning with such anger. I can't take it anymore. I reach under me, wrapping my hand around my flesh. My eyes roll in back of my head as I jerk into my hand, trying to find that orgasm that is there. A gasp escapes my throat from the mixture of pain and surprise when Joey grabs both of my forearms, pulling them back. I can't hold anything; I'm bowed against him as he pumps into me.

"Fuck!" Joey pushed forward, pressing his chest against my back. I feel his hot essence fill me fast, dressing my insides. Joey lets go of me and I slump forward, on my own hard erection. I wince slightly but make no comment about it as Joey sits up in bed. He hates that it takes him so long to find orgasm. He wants us to come together or something like that. It's like the mockery of our age differences.

The sheets feel good against my face and I make no attempt to sit up to take him in my arms, to comfort him. I can't move, actually. When he's so rough with me, it takes forever for my legs to have feeling. Joey knows it and doesn't comment. Instead, his hand dropped to my bottom, touching the skin lovingly. I glance over my shoulder at him, not saying anything. We don't have to talk anymore. I know how he's feeling and I like to think he knows everything going on in my head.

His lips part but Max's barking interrupts him. I glance towards the front of the house, almost regretting the honest truth. Joey says I need to lock Max up in the garage but I always leave the garage door ajar, so Max can come and go as he pleases. I usually lock the garage fully when I wake up while making breakfast, so Joey is none the wiser of my actions but now the cats out of the bag. Max's barks aren't coming from the garage but near the entrance to our land.

Pushing myself up, I listen to his excited barks until he lets out a yelp and everything goes quiet. My heart beats quicker. "Max!" I nearly shoot out of bed but Joey's out first, pulling his pants on.

"Stay here, Aiden."

I nod, watching him leave the bedroom, trying to button his shirt as he makes his way out of the house. My thoughts are rampant as I try to consider what's all going on. Maybe someone was trying to break into our home because I left the door open? Maybe they killed Max so he could get in? My breathing becomes heavier. I have to know what's happening; I can't let Joey die just to check on my dog!

Grabbing pants off the floor, I dart out of the room, towards the garage. The doors still ajar but I hear Joey yelling followed by Jeffery shouting back. First it's apologies about the dog, Joey complains about the vet bills, and then Jeffery trying to change the subject, trying to explain why he's here so late at night. I don't care about any of this, something happened to my dog.

Pushing open the front door, I step out into the autumn air. It's going to be winter soon, I should have grabbed a jacket but that's not important. My dog is what's important. He's currently laid out on the road, near Jeffery's car breathing heavily. Why isn't he getting up? "M, Max?" I step forward. Joey jumps when he sees me. He makes a grab for me, pulling me away from the mess of dog before I get to close. I'm starting to breath heavy. Why is my dog still laying there? He needs a vet! "Joey! My dog!"

"Aiden, get back in the house!" Joey pushes me towards the front door that I left ajar. I push past him, getting to my knees in front of the dog. The headlights from Jeffery's truck let me see the damage. His eyes are glazed over and his tongue rolled out, but he's breathing. He's panting heavily, his last breaths. "Aiden!" Joey grabs at my arm.

"Maybe you should call him by his real name!" Jeffery pushes his brother back. "Mark, get in my truck, I'm sending you back home."

My dog… "Joey, is Max…dying?" I can't lose my best friend. Who else will listen to my complaints after a busy day of cleaning? Who will keep me company when Joey's too busy doing taxes? Joey sits next to me, putting his hand on the center of my back. He feels so clammy, why is that?

"Aiden I need you to go inside. Don't play this game." I look over my shoulder at him. "Max is dying, I'm going to give him his final moments and will bury him you just go on inside and don't come back out until I say to. Do you understand me?"

But Max…

"Aiden."

I know that tone. He's no longer playing with me; it'll be a bad thing to stay out here longer than needed. I pushed myself up, darting past Joey and Jeffery to the house. Jeffery tries to grab me but I'm inside, trying to find some place to burrow until these feelings of abandonment are gone. Jeffery starts yelling again, trying to get in the house. I know he's talking to me but I won't hear it. I want Joey with me, to send him away and make me feel better.

This is my fault. I was too lazy; I should have closed the garage door, firmly locking Max up, like I was told to. The problem was that deep down, locking Max up felt like Joey locking me up. I don't like it so obviously a big dog like Max wouldn't either. I kept that door open, telling myself it was doing the right thing letting my puppy run free but maybe I was wrong and Joey was right.

What if it is safer to be locked away?

Curling up on the bed, I don't move when I hear the sound of tires crunching out of the drive way. I don't shift when the door opens and Joey pushes against my shoulder. "Get up, we have to leave."

I'm starting to get that feeling again, that utter darkness that spirals around me, suffocating. I don't want to move; I just want to close my eyes and maybe open them in several years to find the happiness I once had. "Where to?" I whisper when Joey is unrelenting on my shoulder. It's so late, just let me sleep.

"Anywhere. If we stay here they'll take you away from me just like they took Max away from you." Joey climbs off the bed, throwing open our closet. He digs through the outfits, pulling out many of the articles to throw on the bed. This gets my attention some, especially since I'm not ready to move. I'm ready to mourn and to do that you have to be near the lost being. I want to stay here, near Max's body. "Get up, Aiden!"

I jump out of the bed, reaching under it to pull out the suitcases I had stored there several years ago. I start to carefully fold the clothes to put them away properly but Joey gets angry so quickly, pushing the items into the open bag before leaving to go to his office, to store away all his files. Where are we going? Is it like Ohio? Or maybe it'll be nice and warm, like down South?

Zipping the suitcase, I drag the item to the living room. Maybe I should make some sandwiches? This could be a long ride. Oh, and some coffee.

I'm just finishing a couple of meatloaf sandwiches when Joey comes out with his laptop bag thrown over his shoulder and several portfolio files under his arms. He rushes off to the garage as I put our food into a recycled grocery bag, bringing those out as well. Last to leave is our clothes, which I reopen to pull out my suitable wear for both Joey and myself.

Shoes on and dressed warmly, I stuffed in the cabby of the car with the clothes. I keep my face forward, not wanting to look at the remains of my dog still sitting in the driveway. I don't want to address any of the questions floating around in my head. I just want this to be over. I want Joey to finally be happy. I want the world to just leave us be.

"Would you like some music, Aiden?" Joey's already playing with the radio.

"I left my books," I whisper, mournfully. I had a bookshelf in Joey's office with books he'd purchased me over time: some GED work books and a couple of novels. I had read each one cover-to-cover, with such excitement that it was unheard of. They were my freedom, my responsibility. They were who I was going to be.

Joey pierces his lips. "I buy you more books. More than those." The trunk bounces wildly. I grab a blanket from the floor, wrapping it around me. "I'll get you a new dog, too. Any that you want."

I don't want a new dog. I want Max. I want  _my_ dog. "Where are we going?"

He stops at that. "I don't know." The smile is gone, his eyes are wide. Why is he so scared? "We're just going to go where the wind takes us."

My foot taps against the ground. My eyes fall on the tree lines out the window. A deer looks up from the foliage before bouncing off into the distance, not wanting to get caught by us. I watch it disappear with some interest while trying to find the right way to ask the next question. "Why are we going?"

Breathing heavily, Joey slows down some, trying to make a turn carefully. The gravel under the tires crunches noisily, grating to my ear. The blanket, wrapped firmly around me, feels like a tight hold that Joey could not give me. I rolled to the floor, my knees against my chest. It's uncomfortable down here but I don't care. I try so hard to remember why was leaving but all I can hear over the blood in my ears is Max's wines, my own throats, and wordless yelling.

What did Jeffery do this time? Did he  _do_ something to irritate Joey? I thought Susan said she would get him off my case?

Sleep doesn't come easy but when it does find me, it's empty. Dreams mean little and sleep is too cherished to give up. I'm only roused when Joey hits a pothole, merging onto the interstate as the crisp dawn light shined through the windshield. Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes before grabbing breakfast from the cabby seat. I hand Joey a sandwich before settling myself against the door, gazing out the high window at the morning skies.

I like Ohio, to be honest. Although the weather changed frequently between too hot and too cold, the skies were always beautiful and worth watching. I'm only stirred from my thoughts at the sound of a police cruiser behind us. I raise a brow towards Joey, begging to know what to do. I'm not in a seat belt. It'll be obvious if I climb into a seat to buckle up. Joey curses noisily as he pulls to the side of the road and I climb under my blanket, laying myself across the floor.  _Think still thoughts…_

Joey's very charismatic when he needs to be. I firmly believe he could talk himself out of anything. The cop is nice as sickening nice, asking Joey to step out of the car.

"May I ask why?" Joey clicks his seatbelt off. The engine of the truck shuts off, no longer vibrating under my ear. The car door opens and Joey climbs out before shutting the door. I fight to stay still, to not run to Joey to make sure things are okay. What could I do about a traffic violation? Cry the ticket away?

Their voices fade and I grow to wonder what this could all be about. Is Joey in some kind of trouble? His voice peeks into yells outside and I crack an eye out from under the blanket, only to see the black plastic lining of the back cabby. I want to know what's going on, what's happening to Joey.

The truck door opens again, allowing the back cabby door to be open. I tense under my blanket. _Go away, go away._

The blanket slides from my body. "Mark Redford?" A soft, voice of a woman ask. I don't move. I'm too scared to do anything. "It's okay, I won't hurt you." A hand touches my shoulder and I pull closer to the seat. Where's Joey? I want to go home! Joey's voice echoes from somewhere, telling me not to say anything; that he'll deal with this. Deal with what, I wonder.

I open my eyes, taking in the woman talking to me. She's a pretty cop, perhaps in her mid thirties. She has a piece of paper in her hand, looking over it and back at me. She smiles sweetly, reassuringly, like a person does to reassure a vicious creature that they mean no harm."Mark? I'm Marie with the Ohio State Police. You're safe now."

Safe? I've never been in danger. She offers me her hand but I don't take it. Joey should be coming back now, he needs to start the engine and drive me away from here. The sound of police sirens are everywhere. I can't breathe, I need Joey…

I black out for a few seconds, regaining full conscious in the bed of the truck overlooking everything. A blanket is firmly wrapped around me, keeping the cold air from my underdressed body. The police woman is talking on a radio with dispatch while a few other cops are going through Joey and my things. There's no Joey, anywhere. Finally, the woman cop comes back over, the same sick smile plastered on her face. "I'm going to take you somewhere safe."

"I want Joey."

That seems to stun her for a few moments. Her blue eyes are wide with surprise as she settles on that statement. "Joey's in custody, Mark."

"Stop calling me that!" I grab my eyes, trying to block the words. "I'm Aiden! Aiden!" I have to stay this way or Joey won't love me. I have to stay his perfect Aiden. "Where's Joey? I want to see Joey!" I'm hyperventilating again. I can't find the oxygen. There are too many people and no Joey to make it better. Why did this happen? How did Jeffery find out who I really am?

 _"Aiden, what's your last name anyway?"_ "

_"Redford. Aiden Redford."_

Oh God.

The words keep playing in my head. Susan's pretty smile, the mock sincerity of her voice. She wanted my last name and I gave it to her. She gave it to her dad and he found out. I was played. Joey's going to hate me now; I ruined her happy marriage with my own stupidity. But there wasn't any Aiden Redford. How did they find me?

I can't think, my heads too swarmed with emotion to think clearly. Joey probably left on his own free will because I've messed up so bad. First Max now this. A hand at my shoulder pulls me from the truck, leading me to the police cruiser not too far. I'm helped into the back seat where I just stare distantly ahead of myself. I have to amend myself. I have to get my story straight so Joey doesn't get in any trouble.

And I do. Hours later, locked in a small, dark room, I firmly insist that I ran away from home. I told Joey my name was Aiden and restarted my life out here. Joey's my one and only and has done nothing wrong and they have falsely imprisoned him on stupid charges. Kidnapping? Did I look like a kid?

I step up against the long mirror that obviously a one way window. "It's all the truth, ask him!" Or don't. Joey probably has his own story. It's so obvious neither of us know what's going on. I feel like a caged animal, moving to each wall to try and find some kind of escape. They won't listen to reason. "I have to clean," I explain. "If I don't, Joey will be very disappointed."

The woman who had taken me from the truck doesn't listen to my never-ending reasons. She even showed me the police report about my abduction, pulled from the national server. She also has papers from the National Center of Missing and Exploited Children. I don't believe them though. They're forged; someone's trying to get Joey in trouble.

There are so many hushed whispers about Joey each time I ask. No one will tell me anything, they just tell me to sit still and someone will be here to help. A jelly donut is brought to be but I only pick at it, eating small clumps before coming sick. It feels like days that I'm stuck in there while they move around me, only that overly helpful woman trying to talk to me. I don't know why they won't just leave me alone and bring Joey back.

"Markus…."

I don't get up from the table but my attention turns to the new voice, a familiar voice. The woman at the door way looks so small and brittle. Brown hair salted with gray and bags under her eyes. My mother looks so old. I tense my shoulders, crouching in my seat.

"Oh, my sweet Markus." She steps over wrapping her arms around me. "You're still alive." She starts to cry as she touches me, her hands on my shoulders, trailing my arms, touching my face. I just watch her, vacantly. I missed my mother so much but I don't feel a connection like I should. She abandoned  _me_. They moved. They lost contact. My lack of response gets her crying. "D, do you remember who I am?"

I nod.

That makes her smile again. "And look at you, my darling little boy."

The door opens again and a man stands there, looking just as stunned to see me. My dad is tall and old looking. Both parents look so small, like the world has stolen the very life out of them. He runs over to me, pulling my frail body in his arms. I hiss at the pressure in my throwing arm. "Dad…" I whisper.

The man smiles, nodding joyously. "Oh, Mark." He holds me tightly. I stare blankly past him, waiting for one last person to come into my life, to take me away from all this sudden change. "We lost faith that the Lord would bring you back to us." My eyes fall on the dirty floor.

"Let me look at him, Paul." My mom pushes back on my dad, taking me at arm distance. Her eyes fall on my arm, slightly swollen but still functional. "What did that monster do to you?" She asks. I frown. There was no monster, just a man who has been misunderstood since this morning. People think he took me, that he beat and raped me, and that I'm some kind of victim that needs to be saved.

I do not need help. I just need Joey to come back and tell me that things will be all right. I need him to hold my hand and say he still loves me even though almost everything has gone wrong. I need to know that some semblance of normalcy still exists. "Nothing. When can I see Joey? Can you find out?" I look around the room, hoping someone will consider my request. That would be great if just one person would listen to me. I don't need food or water, I just need my lover.

My mom freezes, like a deer caught in the headlights. She starts to cry, grabbing hold of me. I'm confused. Why is she crying?

"He's wonderful." I tell her. "He takes good care of me." I leave it at that, I don't want anyone to know what we do together. They have no right to know that his seed is still in my bottom, leaving an uncomfortable feeling in its wake. It's a sweet uncomfortable, however. My little secret.

Do you know what a sinner I've become, mom? Dad? Do you know that I've had sex with that man almost every night since that apartment in Colorado? Would you believe I yearn to be touched, to be kissed, and to be dominated? Would you still love me if I became a monster?

I settle back in my seat, fixing my eyes on the floor. "Let them know I want Joey." That's all I need to say before falling into the silence I've grown used to over the years.

My mom takes a step back. She seems more nervous than ever. Like I'm not the little boy she once knew. He's dead. This 'Mark' isn't what Joey wants and I strive to give Joey what he wants. "Sweetie…" She whispers. My dad puts his hand on the small of her back.

"Can someone  _please_ bring me Joey? It's almost dinner time and he gets mad when he's hungry." I let my gaze fall on that little window, where those dumb cops are, watching me like a fish. They're the ones that took him away unfairly.

My mom rushes out of the room, my dad puts a hand on my head but leaves shortly after. I don't move from that chair. I can only long for Joey to come through that door and tell me that it's all a test and that I've passed.


	11. The Conclussion

It was my choice to break all contact with Joey – to protect him. Mom wanted to try him in court, her moral code conflicted with the devastating news of what had happened to me those five years. She thought he should be killed for what he did – to save others. Dad admitted at times he also wanted to see Joey tried but being put to death, he explained, would only be an easy fix to the problem. He needed to go to jail so he could be thoroughly punished for his crimes.

Jeffery advocated for Joey to seek help. Joey would be institutionalized until seen 'fit' and upon which a restraining order would be erected, keeping him away from me. I agreed to these terms because I didn't want Joey being hurt by anyone.

No one understood that this wasn't a kidnapping. I was twenty-one when those cops pulled me from the car and took me to their precinct. Everyone knew that if I so desired, I could go back and fight that all of it was voluntary. I had my own say in the matter of things. Only, if I went with Joey, mom would have filed charges. This way Joey can be safe and free.

Fiddling with my ring finger, I feel a sense of emptiness without the ring that had donned it for the last four years since leaving Joey's home. It sits before me on the psychologist's desk, just innocently watching me and her. It looks cold… "I bet you heard." I whispered, mostly to myself. "You always know."

Sylvia Monroe was from up north, according to all her diplomas on the way. She actually specialized in children and adolescents but had seemed eager to take my case when the first handful of psychologist was abandoned by me. So far she had lasted a year. "What do I know?" She folded her legs. I watched her facial expressions carefully. She wasn't like all the others. That stone cold look wasn't there, only one of concern. It made me think she didn't really know but I knew the truth. My parents were quick to set up this appointment when Joey called. They would have told her.

They had mentioned it being an emergency.

"That I tried killing myself."

I didn't think, ever, that those words could have escaped my mouth. I've been depressed, sure – hopeless and lost in an endless void of uncertainty as I waited for someone or something to come help me. I've never once actually attempted to take my own life, just imagined it. If my dad hadn't taken that gun away from me, I would have done it. I would have left this painful, lonely world.

Sylvia raised one of her fine brown brows. She was scrutinizing my answer. Of course she knew that, I had stitches on the side of my head where I had aimed and missed. "Is that the only thing I should already know? Because I knew that. No, let's talk about why you tried to kill yourself instead, Mark."

"Don't call me that!" I covered my ears, my body crouching. Aiden, Aiden, Aiden. I am  _his_  Aiden.

"Mark has never wanted to kill himself before." The psychologist exhales sharply. "But Aiden has. Aiden makes you do a lot of things you wouldn't normally do."

I never have a comment for that. It's not the first time I've heard her talking about Mark and Aiden as two separate beings. She was the only one to address the issue. The others just insisted my parents refrain from calling me 'Aiden' and enforce a response to 'Mark' while working on all the other issues but. Sylvia likes to address both as separate entities. Dissociative Identity Disorder, they call it. Similar to multiple personality disorder, I have created a split identity to 'protect' my main self.

When Sylvia first explained this to my dad, she put it in terms of a narrow road and one lone cop. If a person went down a road and was ticked every single time, for nothing but going down that one road (Mark, she call it), they would took an alternate route that escaped the punishment (Aiden). I developed "Aiden" at Joey's persistence, wanting to protect myself. When "Aiden" came to show, Joey reinforced it through praise and protection and, in turn, I found safety in it. Over five years, my time as Aiden grew more and more than my time as Mark, which solidified the alternate personality.

In other words, for five years Mark meant bad and Aiden meant good.

Mom was insistent then that Aiden should just go away. Dad suggested alternating the method and praising Mark and punishing Aiden. Sylvia's suggestion of simply ignoring (thus calling extinction to) my Aiden moments or having me sit when I want to be overly helpful fell on deaf ears.

I now live with an old friend from high school, Skyler. He gave me space and took Sylvia's suggestion, being patient with Aiden abut insisting on calling me Mark throughout it all.

Sylvia tapped her pen absently on the tip of her desk before setting it down. "Can you tell me the events that led up to you shooting yourself?"

"Dad wasn't supposed to be there."

"He was checking up on you."

I exhaled sharply. "I wasn't feeling good so I tried dealing with you. I told the other guy I wasn't going to do it again." I meant the staff at the hospital, after waking up restrained. It took a couple of days before they allowed me to leave the hospital and go home with Skyler, who fought me from my parents again. He's the one who is waiting outside patiently for me. "I'm going out to eat after this."

"Where are you going?" Sylvia smiles.

"That barbeque place, down by Café Brown." I stretch my legs.

"That's your favorite place." The woman notes absently.

Mark's favorite place, she means. I used to go there every year on my birthday since I was five. I loved it and used to try to sneak that as dinner whenever I could. "Yeah, I guess so."

The woman continued. "Did your attempted suicide have anything to do with the letter of notification?"

"No!" I glare out of the corner of my eye.

"Do you want to talk about that instead?"

"No!" I grip my fingers into the knees of my pants. I want the next thirty minutes to go by so I can just eat and hang out with Skyler. I want the day to be over so I can go back to my room and start my life anew tomorrow. My eyes begin to tear up thinking about those events that had led up to walking in the hospital. Visiting my parents, there was a letter for me from Ohio. My mom's accusing eyes burning into my soul as I read it excitedly (Joey's never written! We always snuck around to call each other, talking in secret for hours a month). I just remember leaving the room with heavy nerves, going to my dad's office and holding the gun to my head. I didn't know if it was loaded or not, all I wanted to do was end my eye that very second. "That letter…"

Thin words scribed out with so much nonchalance. They didn't care, they were doing their job. They just wrote it out for those who needed to know those who were told to be informed. It was like a slap to my face.

"I was hanging out with Skyler, the day before it all happened," I continued absently, watching the fluffy clouds pass her window. "The Yankees game – always used to watch with Skyler and the gang, just to see them lose. They never do, of course but it made the events all the more fun to get riled up. Well, it was just me and Skyler, like always and we were enjoying the game. He ordered pizza, he drank a beer I had some soda. It was a good evening. Yankees won and Skyler and I got cozy. I think I kissed him first."

I hadn't admitted that since it happened. I know our lips touched, our fingers brushed against one another. I know we parted and I was scared but Skyler's lips touched mine and all those cares disappeared. Then I went home to my parents, read that letter, and attempted to kill myself.

"He always knows when I misbehave. This was punishment. We can't live without each other." Those last words seem so unsure because even as I think about it, suicide seems so extreme for cheating on him. I wasn't really thinking though when it all happened. All I heard was this was a test, which I would get there (where ever "there" was) and he wouldn't be there. The gun had clicked and I woke up in the hospital with stitches and Skyler hovering over me.

"He couldn't have known before all that happened. The letter was sent out two days before the game." She knows, however, that sound reasoning means nothing to me when it comes to Joey. Even from Ohio he has a tight grip around my reason. I can't do anything because Joey wouldn't approve and it takes months for me to actually agree to put myself in obviously harmful situation. "Why don't we talk about that letter? It's caused you a lot of distress."

"Let's not." I don't want to think about it.

"The funeral was today." She comments absently. "I called up Jeffery Montgomery, he says he wishes you could have made it but he understands that you're not…ready… to go back. I disagree some, I think you're ready, at least to see the funeral. I think you need it. You were sort of ripped away from it all. Do you know who Aiden Young is?" She positioned herself carefully, watching me. I shook my head. "He was a young boy that Joey used to live with before you." She pulled out a yellow manila folder, pulling out some clean sheets of paper from it.

Joey's writing stared at me hard. His apologies to the world when he went about killing himself. He wrote about this Aiden as lovingly as he talked about me. How we were so similar but Aiden had needed him until the day he died but I hadn't. Behind was a printed image of a kid in an older picture. The boy staring back was almost like me, long dark hair, baby blue eyes, and a wide smile. Behind him, holding him tightly was a much younger Joey, who looked as happy as the man in his arms.

"He died a few months before your kidnapping. Jeffery never actually meet the boy, Joey apparently kept his 'little Aiden' a secret for years. The man's body was found a few years ago but the case was never solved."

I kept the picture in my hands, staring over the boy's face, like a ghost. He was me. No, I was him. That was Aiden. He was recreating his Aiden and I kept spoiling it with my Mark moments. I was just a replacement. I toss the picture on the desk. "I want to go home."

"Tell me what's upsetting you." The psychologist whispers. "Is it all this? Or is it still Joey's death."

"He loved me! He made it clear it was me he loved! He died because I was no longer with him!" I sob, no longer believing these words escaping my mouth. I know she's the only one being honest with me. Mom had told me that with Joey no longer around I could just go on with my life but Sylvia was making sure I knew everything that happened. There were no secrets; I had to know what had happened.

He told me we first meet when I was playing baseball and the ball slipped and hit the fence. Was that me or this Aiden? Was I supposed to start living this Aiden's life or was I supposed to become this Aiden?

"Did he ever love me?" I whisper solemnly.

"I don't think we'll ever know." She whispered. "We have another ten minutes if you want—"

"When's your next appointment?" I grab my knees.

"Not until one."

"Can we continue this until then? I have a lot I need to understand." She nods in understanding.

Hours later, I leave her office. Skyler perks up from the stiff chairs in the front office. ESPN plays quietly on the television in his line of view but I can tell his attention hadn't actually been on it. He pushes himself to his feet, tucks his hands in his pockets and walks with me out of these offices. The silence is comforting, it's not as pushing. My mom used to demand answers when I left with her but Skyler…he's different. He's content as long as I'm happy.

"I haven't eaten yet, still want barbeque or McDonalds?" Skyler remotely unlocks his car. He offers me the keys and I take them nervously. He always offers me the chance to drive, especially as I work towards my license. I took the driver's seat, cautiously fixing all the mirrors, double checked everything, and then put it in drive. I drove us out to the barbeque restaurant, parking as far away from the others as possible. Our silence was soothing, necessary as I got my nerves back under control.

Skyler lead the way into the restaurant, asking for our usual seats in back where it was less crowded. I settle in the furthest seat, ordering plain water while focusing on the national news on television. Skyler folded his hands. It's not usually this quiet amongst us. Skyler always has something to tell me, either it be his daughter, his ex-wife, or his work. He's full of stories and play-by-plays. I'm the quiet one, listening half-heartedly while contemplating the idea of being a hermit.

At least that was until we kissed.

"Things go bad today?' Skyler finally broke the silence when his diet coke was brought over. He took a swig from the drink before setting it aside, his eyes falling on the menu that was memorized already.

"They went." I admit absently. The perky meteorologist makes a swinging motion with her hands to talk about the recent heat wave. "I want to see his grave."

Skyler chokes on his soda. He's so comical while trying to get his lungs cleared. "You want to go to Ohio?"

"Just to check…to finish things." I played with the ring along my finger. "Sylvia and I got to talking if I was really still in love with him – if I ever was, y'know, in love. He did so much to manipulate me and I just want to see his grave site, to tell him I'm ready to move on." I roll the ring off my finger, setting it on the table. It wasn't something that was sentimental to me. I wore it because it was a familiar weight on my finger. Skyler has suggested I remove it for years, that it's a constant reminder of Joey's existence, a reinforcer of his rules in Mark's life, Sylvia had told me just minutes before. "I'm ready to move on – no, I have to."

Fingers in his pocket, Skyler pulls out his phone, sliding his fingers around the buttons. I raise a brow at the device, not fond of the item that Skyler seemed to have glued to his ears and fingers most days. He taps his index finger along the screen. "We could probably fly out for a few days, I just have to take a few personal days…huge dent in my savings but—"

"I can go alone – and pay my own way. Jeffery gives me money when I need it and I've been really good at saving." I shake my head. That's Skyler's biggest fault, he always needs to take care of me. He's like my mom in thinking that if I leave Colorado I'll go back to Ohio and I'll never return home. Skyler's right about one thing – I wouldn't have before. If I knew I could meet up with Joey and he'd make things return the way they had been, I wouldn't have returned. Things have changed. Joey's abandoned me and I no longer feel like following.

Suicide is no longer on my mind. The only thing encouraging me to drop it all is the knowledge that I wasn't the 'Aiden' Joey was initially in love with. I just looked like the man he fell in love with. He led me along because he loved this broken body.

Taking my hand, Skyler doesn't seem the least bit bothered that I stiffened; looking at his hand like it was fire. Will he kiss me again? Will I kiss him? Will it be magical? "I'm coming with you. I walked away the last time you needed help, I won't do it again."

"My parents…" Someone has to lie to them.

"Don't have to know." Skyler sipped his drink, grinning pleasantly at the server as she took our usual orders. When she leaves, he relaxes a little. "Seriously, we can tell them we're going on vacation and we can head to Ohio." He smiles politely. I actually feel excited that he's going along with this, especially since I know my parents would never agree to it. He understands me more than anyone else does. This really is my best friend… "You have to do two things for me, though."

Joey always put stipulations with his demands to but I know Skyler's aren't fully off sexual service. "What?" I am a free man, I have a choice over what I'll do.

"First, you must keep a journal of your thoughts on this trip. Second, you must share everything with Sylvia. I don't want you having some breakdown and no one helping."

Sylvia asked the same thing but if Skyler thinks it's a good idea… "Okay. And you'll be with me so…"

"Nothing bad will happen." Skyler's sweet smile makes me smile.

True to his word, a week later we're entering the cemetery where Joey was buried. I'm dressed somewhat nicely for the occasion in comparison to my companion. Grabbing Joey's ring from my breast pocket, I curl my fingers around the jewelry one last time before stepping out of the vehicle. Skyler stays back as I make my way through the tombstones, looking around for Joey's.

It feels all the more real when I stumble across the cold granite.  _Joseph Riley Montgomery, Loving Brother, Uncle, and Friend_. If Skyler were here, he'd be laughing up a storm. Even I can't hide the small smile on my face. He was a loving brother and uncle but friend? I never meet any of his friends. It was all business and pleasure with him. "Hi…Joey…" I drop to my knees in front of his gravestone. A morbid thought crosses my mind, that I'm knelt over his body. What a familiar position…

Compared to Colorado, it's muggy out here in Ohio. I think I'm overdressed for this. "I can't come with you this time." I almost feel his presence, choking the air from my throat. "I, I tried to but…" I drop my gaze, to the ring in my hand. I was so happy when I received it, like I was on Cloud Nine. The truth is, this ring was never meant for me, I didn't really want it. This was the lock to my shackles. I put the piece of jewelry on his grave, letting the different materials contrast to one another. "Aiden's dead. Both of your Aiden's. I want to get better…"

The truth, you messed me up. You ruined me. I just received my GED, I work as a housekeeper at the local hotel, I am fighting to start my life. You took so much away from me. I want so hard to start a relationship with someone else but you even took that you…

"I hate you." I hid my eyes, waiting for something to hit me. I need his ghost, in the back of my mind, standing over me. I'm ready to be ripped from all this, to find myself back over the kitchen sink with Joey's hands at my throat. I expect to start drowning, with his voice in my ear telling me that if I hated him so much, I didn't need to stay here.

Without thinking about it, I slid back off his grave, trying to make myself feel better. His image disappears as I amend my statement, my vision blurry with tears. "I want to hate you so much. Let me move on."

"You should."

I jump out of my skin, twisting around to see who had snuck up. Jeffery lowers his head in shame.

"Didn't mean to scare you." He drops next to me, his hands on his knees. "I heard that you tried to kill yourself. Was it because of Joey?"

"I don't need  _you_  to psychoanalyze me." I curl my fist. "I bet Sylvia told you I was coming."

"No." Jeffery shifts. "I swung in to think and saw you out here. I'm surprised you even came, not that it's bad you came or anything. I've been meaning to talk to you about Joe."

"How's Susan?" I took a blade of glass between my fingers.

Jeffery winces. The respect I had for Susan disappeared that night I was taken from Joey, when I learned that she had tricked me for my last name. Believed in her Uncle Joey, my ass. She knew that to get to me, she had to play as a friend. "She's okay. She's working on her doctorate. Mark, I…" Jeffery rubbed his eyes, looking more stressed than ever. "Joey left you everything." He frowned. "Well, he left 'Aiden' everything but we know he meant you."

"He could have meant his first Aiden."

"Frankly, never meet the kid. You were the first one he brought home so as far as the will goes, it's all left to you. The house, is assets, everything. Sylvia said she'd bring it up with you after you worked past his death but I think you need to know now." He tapped his knee. "It's to be used as you want."

"I don't want it." Because that would mean coming back here, living in that house with all those memories. "Money won't fix anything. It won't make me who I was then." I tucked myself into a small ball, shaking visibly. "Just give it to Susan, she'll need the money and stuff for her life after college." Jeffery's hand falls on my back, causing me to tense. I know that's what he's hoping I'd say. "…How far along was…it?" I finally find the courage to ask.

Jeffery winces. He knows what I'm talking about. "It was under control, like yours. I think, I hope. Uh…you have been seeing that specialist I recommended, haven't you?"

Nodding, I pluck the grass out from under me. "Yeah."

We fall into a comfortable silence, just watching the granite in front of us. Jeffery breaks the silence after a bit. "That your roommate? Does he…know?"

"Skyler, yes." I nod looking over my shoulder towards Skyler's car. He's learning against the hood, his phone in his hands and a smile on his face. It makes me smile because I know he's looking at pictures of his little girl, probably more images his ex-girlfriend sent him. "Why was your brother like this?" It's been a question plaguing me for years now. He was so tolerable when he wasn't trying so hard to hold onto me.

There're so many similar characteristics between Jeffery and Joey. That blonde hair, those golden eyes, and that way they bite their lip as they think of suitable answers. "I don't know. He's always been a little different, I think its how dad treated him. He used to torture Joey when we were little. Was always so tough on him. Used to look him under the stairs for weeks, would tell Joey he did it out of love. Joey just up and left when he was eighteen, didn't come back until dad's death, with you. It's so strange, when I saw him during the girl's birthdays and holidays he seemed so… normal and happy. I didn't think he was capable. No, I didn't want to believe that he would actually kidnap someone. I kept praying that I was wrong, that he was still my baby brother."

Joey never spoke to me much about his father. I remember that morning lying in his arms and he told me the bare minimum about his family. I didn't think his father was abusive but I always had my questions about the man's relationships with his family. He was just so distant from everyone. "I miss him." I admit suddenly, lowering my head. "Some days more than others. I hate him after my doctor's appointments because I know he's the reason why I'm sick. The problem is after a few weeks, I start to miss him. I miss someone holding me at night, telling me that I complete them. I miss having someone depend on me for their basic needs."

"I can't apologize enough—"

"There's nothing to apologize for." I smile. "I don't think Joey knew he was HIV-Positive. I doubt he knew what he was doing for the better part of the decade. Aiden made him happy and he didn't want to let go." I could almost feel Joey's soul enter me, thanking me for understanding all his sins. "Did you know he made me happy? He went out of his way when I was under lock down to make it bearable. All I had to do was ask for it and he got it for me. All those books, all those dog toys – anything I wanted, within reason. He bent over backwards and made me feel like prince. I wanted to leave during his bad days, yes, but those good days made it so much more bearable and… I miss him." I chewed on my bottom lip. "Can I let you in on a secret?"

"Hm?" Jeffery stares off in the distance.

"He and I were still talking to each other. He would call me up on his drives in town to get groceries and we would talk for several minutes. The last time we spoke… He was so excited about a job he'd gotten in Canada. Kept saying we should move in together again but I wasn't sure. I told him I wanted to think about it. I remember telling him all about Skyler and how he was letting me stay with him. I guess I spoke about him too much and Joey knew before I did. You know what he asked before he hung up?"

"What?" Jeffery seemed really intrigued.

"If I was wearing his ring. I hadn't been. I used to a lot but when I started to hang out with Skyler a lot I stopped and… He knew that it was over between us before I knew. Next thing I know he kills himself."

Jeffery sighed. "Mark…"

"Until recently I thought he had all this control over me. I woke up a few days before he died and realized that Joey was in Ohio and I was here. It didn't occur to me again until Skyler and I kissed. Joey wasn't controlling me. He had no power except in his words. And then he killed himself and I tried following."

"He only has control if you let him." The man pushed himself up, groaning softly. I hear his knees pop but don't comment. "Trust me, you're free. Joey, bless his soul wherever it is, can't control you unless you let him. Anyway, I have to head home. Are you sure you don't want any of his assets"

"You're still paying for my doctors?"

"Yea." The doctor smiled.

I tucked my hands between my knees, staring off in the distance. "Then I'm good. The part of me that was in love with him wasn't in love with his money." Mark was in love with his freedom, Aiden with his captor. I wasn't going to take any more part in his delusions. Instead, I wanted to be better and Sylvia always said the first step to that is me. "Can you send Skyler over?"

Jeffery nods, leaving the area. A few seconds later, Skyler comes over to me, dropping next to me. His long arm wraps around my back in a comforting hug and I lean into him. It feels so wrong to be this close to another man when my last one – my first – is buried near our feet. "I want to leave this place."

"We can go back to the hotel." Skyler helps me off the ground. I shake my head.

"I want to get out of Ohio." I start towards his car. I feel so much lighter with each step. Climbing in the car, I don't even turn my head to look back at the grave, I just stare forward as Skyler starts up his car and starts out of the cemetery. Without thinking about it, I reach over the console to grab his hands. "Can we stop at the leaving sign and take pictures?"

Skyler shrugs. "Sure, let's just check out of the hotel first and we'll head out."

"And can we do that with every state we cross?" I tight my hold on his hand.

He laughs. "I don't see why not; that sounds kind of fun anyway." His thumb brushes against the top of my hand, sending a shiver down my spine and a smile to my lips. Turning my head back towards the cemetery, now a speck in the distance, I can almost see a part of me left at the grave stone, staring off in the distance.  _Good bye, Joey._  "Oh, hey! Kerry sent me a new picture of Naomi, see had a messy breakfast." His phone is out of his pocket in seconds, his thumb brushing across the screen while his eyes focused on the road.

I could only shake my head and smile. "I'm ready to be Mark."

Skyler's thumb slows down. His smiles shyly at me. "I'm glad. I missed you, bud."

"You'll stick around, won't you?" I tighten my hold on his hand. "Past all my faults?"

"Of course." He leans over, pecking my cheek. Leaning against his side, I can only think how bright my future looks for the first time in ten years.


End file.
